THE  UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

LIBRARY 


THE  WILMER  COLLECTION 

OF  CIVIL  WAR  NOVELS 

PRESENTED  BY 

RICHARD  H.  WILMER,  JR. 


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Tried  and  Triie, 


OB 


LOVE    AND    LOYALTY 


A  Story  of  the  Great  Rebellion. 


MRS.  BELLA  Z.  SPENCER. 


SPRINGFIELD,  MASS.: 

W.    J.    HOLLAND. 

1871. 


Enterea  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1866,  by 

MRS.  BELLA   Z.  SPENCER, 

In  the  Clerk's  office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  District  of  Massa- 
chusetts. 


SAMUEL  BOWLES  AND  COMPAJTT, 
FBINIERS  AI3I>  BIHBEBS. 


Preface. 


I  VENTURE  before  the  public  once  more,  In  the  character 
of  an  author,  with  much  diffidence,  and  shall  depend  largely 
upon  the  truthfulness  of  the  narrative,  for  public  fiivor,  apart 
from  any  claim  to  literary  merit.  Frequent  visits  to  the 
Army  of  the  South-west  during  the  war,  together  with  un- 
usual advantages  for  becoming  familiar  with  the  singular 
events  which  marked  the  progress  of  our  national  strife,  have 
placed  me  in  possession  of  the  plot,  and  nearly  all  of  the  de- 
tails, of  this  story.  I  spent  several  weeks  at  Paducah  in 
186j2,  leaving  it  after  the  battle  of  Shiloh ;  and  it  was  while 
traveling  thither,  I  first  came  to  know  the  heroine  of  my  story. 
Afterwards  I  met  her  at  Corinth,  at  Avhich  place  I  spent  a  part 
of  two  summers — the  first  before  the  battle  of  Corinth — the 
second  in  the  year  following,  while  General  G.  M.  Dodge  was 
there  in  command,  and  with  whom  my  husband  then  served 
as  Chief  of  Staff.  While  there,  and  afterward  when  in  Ten- 
nessee and  Alabama,  life  at  head-quarters  with  Mrs.  Dodge 
opened  to  me  facilities  for  gathering  the  materials  used  in  this 
work,  which  I  could  not  have  gained  in  any  other  position. 
Many  visits  were  made  to  the  sick  and  wounded,  and  the 
miserable  Refug-ees  who  swarmed  through  our  lines.  Man\ 
were  the  long  horseback  rides  into  the  country,  passing  fea^ 

603250 


IV  PREFACE. 

lessly  beyond  our  pickets  to  any  place  which  our  fancy  might 
select ;  and  it  is  to  such  a  life  I  owe  what  knowledge  I  possess 
of  the  suffering,  wrong  and  oppression  of  a  people  whose  posi- 
tion was  worse  than  that  of  the  slave. 

In  the  narrative,  I  have  touched  but  lightly  upon  the  condi- 
tion of  the  Refugees.  Here,  however,  1  feel  constrained  to  say 
a  word  in  their  favor,  hoping  to  win  for  them  a  sentiment  of 
pity,  at  least,  from  those  who  may  read.  It  is  true  that  many 
of  them  seemed  ungrateful  for  the  care  bestowed  upon  them. 
If  they  were  not,  ignorance  must  be  their  excuse  for  the  lack 
of  expression  to  their  feelings.  But,  in  the  majority  of  cases,  I 
found  no  cause  for  complaint.  They  were  ignorant  indeed — 
driven  from  their  homes  in  the  most  forlorn  and  destitute  con- 
dition, while  the  fact  that  their  husbands,  sons,  brothers,  were 
in  the  rebel  army,  served  to  cut  them  off  from  all  sympathy. 
Often  the  fact  that  those  men  were  not  left  to  choose,  seemed 
to  have  been  forgotten ;  and  a  conscripted  rebel  was  as  much 
a  rebel  as  those  who  had  willingly  taken  up  arms  against  the 
Government.  We  did  not  pause  to  remember  that  their  help- 
less position  rather  rendered  them  subjects  of  pity  than  dis- 
trust, depending,  in  most  cases,  upon  the  wealthy  planters  for 
the  very  roofs  which  sheltered  them.  They  were  too  poor  to 
emigrate  when  the  hour  of  danger  drew  near,  and  hafl  no  other 
alternative  for  persecution  and  abuse  than  to  allow  themselves 
to  be  driven  forth  like  cattle  to  the  slaughter,  leaving  their 
families  behind.  Then,  as  our  ai-my  advanced,  and  those  who 
had  the  means  fled  before  it,  the  wretched  beings,  who  had  no 
friends  and  no  means  for  following,  were  forced  to  remain  and 
share  the  traitors'  fate.  Sickness,  want,  even  starvation,  came 
upon  them,  when  the  hand  of  humanity  was  withheld.  They 
were  compelled  to  leave  their  homes,  and  wander  friendless 


PREFACE.  V 

through  the  land.  Still  Avor.^e  was  it  for  those  who  had 
braved  the  rebels  and  entered  the  Union  army.  Their  houses 
were  burned — the  one  cow  and  few  pigs  slaughtered — if  they 
had  a  horse,  it  was  taken  from  them,  and  thus  were  they  set 
adrift  upon  the  world.  Perhaps  the  clothes  they  wore  were 
all  that  was  left  them  upon  earth,  and  thus  they  came  through 
our  lines,  weary,  foot-sore,  ragged,  with  babes  dying  upon  the 
breast,  and  little  children  famished  for  want  of  food.  What 
wonder  if  they  died  by  dozens!  What  wonder  if  many 
seemed  ungrateful,  when  help  was  extended  to  them  with 
doubtful  sympathy,  and  few  would  believe  their  story  of 
loyalty!  Surely  it  was  not  on  those — poor,  ignorant,  lowly— 
the  burthen  of  treachery  should  have  rested.  They  were  the 
victims,  and  no  thought  of  chiding  ever  entered  my  heart,  if 
they  failed  to  utter  the  thanks  which  I  knew  it  must  be  hard 
to  feel  under  the  circumstances.  It  seems  to  me  I  could  not 
have  been  grateful  for  what  they  received ;  and  yet  the  ma- 
jority loere  grateful  in  their  way.  A  poor  woman's  "I  don't 
know  what  we'd  'a'  done  ef  it  hadn't  'a'  been  fur  you,"  was 
equivalent  to  the  heartiest  expression  of  thanks.  And  who 
could  doubt  the  sentiments  which  made  them  cling  tearfully 
to  one's  hands  and  garments  when  the  hour  of  parting  came, 
sobbing  out  blessings  and  prayers  that  alone  could  have  arisen 
out  of  gratitude?  I  do  not  exaggerate  when  I  say  that  the 
Refugees  were  more  pitiable  than  the  Negroes. 

While  in  Xorth  Alabama  visiting  my  husband's  regiment, 
which  was  composed  mainly  of  native  Alabamians,  just  before 
Sherman  took  the  field  for  the  great  campaign,  I  saw,  on  the 
banks  of  the  Tennessee  River,  the  ruins  of  "Passiver  Hall" — 
abandoned  by  the  rebels,  and  burned  by  them  to  prevent  its 
falling  into  our  hands  when  we  took  possession  of  that  country. 


VI  PREFACE. 

As  much  as  possible,  I  have  avoided  going  into  the  revolt- 
ing details  of  the  cruel  abuses  of  the  slave.  Every  southern 
sympathizer  will  deny  the  truth  of  those  stories,  and  every 
northern  heart  is  sick  of  contemplating  them,  even  through 
the  medium  of  the  pen.  This  much  I  must  say,  that  even 
Mrs.  Stowe's  representations — claimed  to  be  the  exceptmis — 
cannot  give  any  exaggerated  idea  of  the  truth. 

Up  to  my  sixteenth  year,  my  home,  from  early  childhood, 
was  in  the  South,  and  in  the  midst  of  slavery.  What  knowl- 
edge I  claim  is  personal ;  and  it  is  because  of  this  knowledge 
I  am  now,  and  ever  have  been,  a  decided  republican.  It  was 
bad  enough  before  the  war,  and  extended  throughout  the 
South.  After  the  war  began,  those  who  kept  their  slaves 
with  them,  were  often  fiendish.  Two  strong  cases  were 
brought  to  our  notice  in  Middle  Tennessee,  wliile  we  had 
our  head-quarters  at  Pulaski.  Mrs.  Bane,  whose  husband 
commanded  the  Fiftieth  Illinois  Eegiment  in  the  Sixteenth 
Army  Corps,  was  then  at  Lynnville,  and  one  day  when  Mrs. 
Dodge  and  I  drove  up  to  see  her,  we  found  a  queer,  bright 
little  specimen  of  humanity  in  her  house,  in  whom  we  became 
greatly  interested.  That  little  creature,  the  daughter  of  a 
pretty  mulatto  woman,  was  left  friendless  and  alone  in  the 
world.  Her  master,  also  her  father,  was  in  the  rebel  army. 
Her  mother  had  been  tied  across  a  barrel  by  a  brutal  overseer, 
and  beaten  severely,  and  then  left  in  that  position  all  night. 
When  moi'ning  came,  she  was  dead.  The  mistress,  a  very 
short  time  afterwards,  while  angrily  flourishing  what  they  call 
a  "bull  whip"  on  those  plantations,  over  a  couple  of  small 
.negro  boys,  fell  dead  with  it  grasped  in  her  hand.  Thus  little 
Georgie  was  cast  adrift  upon  the  world,  and  as  Mrs.  Bane 
was  about  to  leave  the  place,  with  no  prospect  of  being  settled 


PREFACE.  VU 


for  some  time,  we  took  the  cliild  with  us  to  head-quarters 
where  we  kept  her  until  we  ^vere  sent  North,  and  Mrs.  Linton, 
another  of  our  corps  ladies,  took  her  home  with  the  intention 
of  rearing  her  with  the  care  her  intelligence  required. 

The  other  instance  was  m  Pulaski,  the  town  we  occupied, 
and  the  lady  was  a  Mrs.  Jackson,  who  ostentatiously  came  out 
upon  the  sidewalk  to  welcome  our  troops  when  they  entered 
the  place,  claiming  to  be  loyal.  She  sent  invitations  fre- 
quently to  General  Dodge  and  his  officers  to  dine  and  take 
tea  with  her,  until  she  had  won  the  confidence  of  nearly  all  in 
her  professions  of  loyalty.  But  a  short  time  after  I  joined 
Mrs.  Dodge  there  in  1864,  news  was  brought  to  the  General 
that  she  was  cruelly  abusing  a  negro  girl,  whom  she  had  beaten 
shamefully,  then  locked  in  the  smoke-house,  and  kept  upon 
bread  and  water  for  forty-eight  hours !  She  sent  numberless 
notes  to  the  General  pleading  excuses,  and  begging  for  mter- 
views,  until  he  ordered  a  stern  and  prompt  cessation  of  the 
correspondence  through  his  Chief  of  Staff. 

I  mio-ht  give  many  other  such  instances,  with  authentic 
names,  dates,  etc.,  were  it  necessary;  but  too  much  of  this  is 
known  to  allow  the  matter  now  to  drop  ere  the  negro  shall 
have  accorded  to  him  all  rights  before  the  laws  of  his  country. 
Perhaps  many  will  think  that,  since  the  institution  of  slavery 
has  been  abolished,  cruelty  is  at  an  end.  If  so,  the  following 
paragraph  from  a  letter  just  received  by  my  husband  from  the 
suro-eon  of  his  old  regiment,  a  native  Alabamian,  and  still  a 
resident  there,  may  not  be  devoid  of  interest : 

"  The  rebels  here  are  rebels  yet,  and  we  find  as  much  dis- 
affection as  ever.  Union  men  are  scarcely  safe  in  the  country. 
They  have  arrogated  to  themselves  a  great  deal,  and  are  very 
sano-uine  of  another  revolution,  which  shall,  somehow,  end  in 


VIU  PREFACE. 

the  re-enslavement  of  the  negroes.  Meanwhile,  they  so  man- 
age matters,  that  the  negroes  who  are  able  to  work,  are  in  the 
horrible  position  of  slaves  without  masters — slaves  as  to  their 
labor  and  treatment,  without  the  benefits  which  the  interests 
and  cupidity  of  their  masters  formerly  secured  to  them  in  the 
way  of  medical  attendance,  good  food,  clothing,  etc.  The 
weak,  infirm,  aged,  and  the  women  and  children  who  cannot 
work,  are  turned  adrift  to  shift  for  themselves  or  starve.  The 
Union  men  who  lift  their  voices  in  their  behalf,  are  marked, 
persecuted  and  threatened  with  death.  Doctor  I.  TV.  Stewart 
and  his  father-in-law,  Emory,  are  displaying  more  cruelty  to 
the  negroes  than  I  have  ever  before  known  in  this  country. 
A  few  days  since,  they  tied  one  across  a  log,  and  well-nigh 
beat  him  to  death  for  the  most  trivial  oflPense,  such  as  would 
not  have  been  noticed  in  a  state  of  slavery.  They  threaten 
me  with  death  because  I  am  known  as  the  consistent  friend  of 
the  Government  and  the  Freedmen,  and  we  are  all  expecting 
to  be  obliged  to  make  up  a  party  and  leave  the  country  for  a 
home  somewhere  in  the  West." 

Such  is  the  present  state  of  affairs  in  the  South,  where  the 
men  who  have  dared  to  remain  loyal,  cannot  go  back  to  their 
homes  in  peace,  though  peace  has  been  declared.  If,  there- 
fore, any  attribute  to  the  coloring  of  imagination  the  events 
of  the  story  which  I  have  given  them,  it  is  still  within  their 
power  to  prove,  by  personal  observation,  the  entire  truthful- 
ness of  the  pictures  drawn. 

For  the  description  of  the  battles  of  Shiloh  and  Fort  Fisher, 
I  am  much  more  largely  indebted  to  the  author  of  "Sher- 
man's Campaigns "  and  Mr.  Abbot,  than  to  my  own  abiHty. 
All  the  events  of  Fort  Fisher  I  owe  to  Mr.  Abbot,  though  it 
is  not  in  his  words  that  I  have  given  them.  The  descrip- 
tion of  Shiloh  in  "Sherman's  Campaigns,"  by  one  of  his 
officers,  being  the  finest  I  have  anywhere  seen,  I  have  taken 


PREFACE.  ix 

the  liberty  of  adding  to  it  the  meager  contents  of  my  private 
memoranda,  as  made  from  accounts  of  various  officers  at  the 
time  of  the  battle.  Here,  also,  I  have  changed  the  phrase- 
ology somewhat,  perhaps  to  the  author's  disgrace,  but  in  usino- 
it,  surely  I  may  lay  claim  to  a  high  appreciation  of  his  more 
accurate  knowledge  of  the  position  of  the  forces,  than  it  was 
possible  for  me  to  gain  without  being  engaged  in  the  strife — 
which,  luckily,  is  not  a  woman's  province.  For  the  description 
of  Corinth,  I  have  depended  entirely  upon  memory,  touching 
more  upon  the  individual  results  than  the  general  strife. 

If,  from  the  whole  combined,  I  have  been  enabled  to  interest 
the  readers,  and  give  a  correct  picture  of  life  during  those 
"stormy  times"  which  can  only  be  remembered  as  a  dream  by 
those  who  were  not  personally  involved  in  them,  I  shall  feel 
satisfied  with  the  hope  that  my  work  has  not  been  wholly 
without  purpose.  B,  2.  s. 

Philadelphia,  April,  1866. 


Contents. 


PKEFACE. 

AUTHOR  TO  THE  READER. 
TRUTHFULNESS  OF  THE  STORY ITS  SINGULAR  EVENTS  DE- 
SCRIBED FROM  ACTUAL  OBSERVATION — AUTHOR'S  RESIDENCE 
AT  THE  SOUTH  BEFORE  THE  GREAT  REBELLION — HER  POSI- 
TION IN  THE  AVAR — PASSIVER  HALL UNIONISTS  AND  REFU- 
GEES— TREATMENT    OF    THE    SLAVES CONDUCT    OF    EX-REBELS 

SINCE   THE   DECLARATION   OF   PEACE, 3 

CHAPTER   I. 

A    NIGHT    ON    THE    MISSISSIPPI. 
HEROES  AND   HEROLXES — THE    SPIRIT   IN  WHICH   OUR    YOUNG   MEN 

ENGAGED     IN     THE     CONTEST THE     FEDERAL     OFFICER  —  THE 

WOMEN     FOR     THE     UNION   AND     LIBERTY,    WITH     HEART     AND 
HAND — AN    UNKNOWN    HEROINE, 

CHAPTER   n. 

BURNING   OF   A   MISSISSIPPI    STEAMER. 
NOBILITY    OF    CHARACTER PREPARING    FOR    A    FEARFUL     EMER- 
GENCY— DESTRUCTION    OF    THE    STEAMER, 

CHAPTER   in. 

AFTER     THE     DISASTER. 

4.  GLOOMY     AND     COMFORTLESS     NIGHT PATIENT     SUFFERING 

•WAITING  AND    HOPING   FOR    SUCCOR — A   MESSENGER    OF    RELIEF 
— ALONE    WITH    HER    SORROW, 


17 


25 


33 


XU  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER   IV. 

SURMISES    AND    QUESTIONINGS   NOBLY   MET.  p^^z. 

HEART-WORK  AND  BRAIX-AVORK  —  APPROACHING  CAIRO  —  LIFE's 
PURPOSES  AXD  REQUIREMENTS — UNSATISFACTORY  ADIEUX — 
LOOKING    HOPEFULLY   INTO    THE    FUTURE, 45 

CHAPTER   V. 

LIFE    AND    DEATH    IN    A    MILITARY    HOSPITAL. 

LAST  HOURS  OF  A  SOLDIER — A  NEW  FIELD  OF  LABOR — AMONG 
THE  HOSPITALS  AT  PADUCAH — TURNING  FROM  THE  PAST  TO 
THE   PRESENT — SOUTHERN   BLOOD    AT    BOILING   HEAT, 57 

CHAPTER   VI. 

HOSPITAL    LIFE    AT    PADUCAH. 
ONE     OF    THE    MANY    WAR-VILLAINS — CHECKED    IN    HIS    VILLAIN- 
OUS   PRACTICES — DOUBTS,   SURMISES    AND    SUSPICIONS — LABOR- 
ING  AND    WAITING AX    UNEXPECTED    ARRIVAL, 69 

CHAPTER   YH. 

DEFYING    A     HOSPITAL     KNAVE A    LITTLE     PROGRESS     IN 

LOVE    MATTERS. 

CONTEMPT,  NOT  HATRED LOVE  MAKING  STRANGE  HAVOC — ABOUT 

ART    AND    ARTISTS — A    NOBLE    AMBITION — BAFFLED    AND     KEPT 

AT    BAY — NIGHT    VIGILS, 80 

CHAPTER   Vin. 

TAKING   A    YOUNG    SOLDIER   HOME   TO    DIE — RUMORS    OF   A 

BATTLE. 

LOVE    CONQUERING    AMBITION WITH    THE    SICK    SOLDIER    BOY — 

THE  CALM  BEFORE  A  STORM — TURNING  TO  THE  HOSPITAL  FOR 
RELIEF "FOR  HIS  COUNTRY" FIGHTING  AT  PITTSBURG  LAND- 
ING,      94 

CHAPTER    IX. 
THE   BATTLE    OF   PITTSBURG   LANDING. 

THE    FIRST   day's   BATTLE CAPTAIN   WILFER   TAKEN   PRISONER — 

HOW  THE  VICTORY  AT  SHILOH  WAS  WON — SACRIFICES  TO  THE 
GOD   OF   WAR, 108 


CONTENTS.  Xiii 

CHAPTER   X. 

GOING   TO   THE   BATTLE-FIELD.  j.^^^ 

AFTER    THE    FIGHT — PAINFUL    SUSPENSE    AND    FOREBODINGS— ON 
THE     WAY     TO     THE     FIELD — MAKING     NEW    ACQUAINTANCES — 

characterization  of  companions:  two  nurses  from  high 
society;  surgeons;  an  englishman — society  from  differ- 
ent STAND-POINTS — TRUTHS  PLAINLY  SPOKEN — AT  PITTSBURG 
LANDING, lYJ 

CHAPTER   XI. 

INCIDENTS   AND   HORRORS    OF   A   BATTLE-FIELD. 
AMONG    THE    WOUNDED "A    TBUMP"   SOLDIER — A   PATENT   MEDI- 
CINE   PEDDLER — BURYING     THE     DEAD — A    NARROW    ESCAPE — 
MAIMED    FOR   LIFE — MAJOR   NOBLE,  .   .    .    .  ' 131 

CHAPTER   Xn. 

AMONG   THE   AVOUNDED   AND   DYING. 
FEMININE     HEROES — AN     APPEAL     FOR     WOMAN  —  UNTIRING     IN 
WORKS     OF     MERCY — HELPLESS     AND     DEPENDENT — "FAITHFUL 
TO   THE   LAST " — TANTALIZED  AND    DISAPPOINTED,  ........    147 

CHAPTER   Xin. 

PRISON   PENS    AND   REFUGEES. 
PRISON  RATIONS — DYING  BY  INCHES — DESTITUTION  OF  SOUTHERN 

REFUGEES — AN  UNLOOKED   FOR   VISITOR, 163 

CHAPTER   XIV. 

ESCAPING   FROM   PRISON. 
THE  MANNER  OF  ESCAPE — A  SECOND   TIME    CAPTURED — FIENDISH 
AND  BRUTAL  MURDERS — ONCE   MORE  AT  LIBERTY — A  CONFLICT 
OF   LOVE  AND   DUTY, 172 

CHAPTER   XV. 

PLEADING   FOR   THE   LIFE    OF   A   REBEL   PRISONER. 
PLEADING    IN    VAIN ONE    MORE    EFFORT — AN    UNPLEASANT    PRE- 
DICAMENT— AN     UNEXPECTED     MEETING OLD     MEMORIES     RE- 
VIVED,   184 


XIV  CONTENTS, 

CHAPTER   XVI. 

EEFUGEES   AND    THEIR    PITIFUL    CONDITION DISAP- 
POINTMENT   AND    FAITHLESSNESS.  page. 

"WHITE   trash" A  PITIFUL   SIGHT HOMELESS  AND   FKIEXDLESS 

ANOTHER  FIERY  ORDEAL — LASTING  SYMPATHY  AND  KIND- 
NESS— A   FLAG   OF   TRUCE — A   CRUSHING   DISAPPOINTMENT,  .    .    .    198 

CHAPTER    XYII. 

A   SERIOUS    COMPLICATION   AND    ITS   RESULT. 

AN    INTERVIEW    WITH    GENERAL    GRANT — FOR    THE    SAKE    OF    RE- 
VENGE  A     DISCOMFITED     MEDDLER — A     FRANK     CONFESSION — 

KIND    AND    CONSIDERATE, 215 

CHAPTER   XVni. 

A    HOME     OF    AFFLUENCE ITS     BEAUTIES    AND     ITS 

BLEMISHES. 
A  HOME    OF  AFFLUENCE — OPPORTUNITIES    FOR    DOING   GOOD — THE 

CLOVEN    FOOT    APPEARING OUT     UPON    A    SEA    OF     TROUBLE — 

CRUELTY  AND  HARD-HEARTEDNESS — UNHOLY  AMBITION  AND 
SELFISHNESS — SOMETHING    WRONG, 227 

CHAPTER   XIX. 

SOME  OF  THE   WORKINGS   OF  THE  "PECULIAR  INSTI- 
TUTION." 
NEW    AND    BRIGHT    HOPES    CRUSHED — UNPLEASANT    MEDITATIONS 

SUFFERING    IN    SILENCE — DOMESTIC    DISCORD    AGAIN — FRESH 

INDIGNATION    AND    DEFIANCE — BRUTALITY   AND    FIENDISHNESS,   242 

CHAPTER   XX. 

MORE    DETAILS    OF    LIFE   AT    PASSIVER    HALL. 
TROUBLE    AT    THE    NEGRO    QUARTERS — THE     GARLAND    OF    HOPE 

FADING A   VISION'    OF    THE    NIGHT — STILL    WATERS   RUN    DEEP,   255 

CHAPTER   XXI. 

SHARP   PRACTICE   AND   BRUTAL   DOINGS. 

VIGILANT  AND   WATCHFUL  ATTENTION — SUCCESSFUL    STRATEGY 

NOCTURNAL  MYSTERIES — A  SLAVE  WHIPPED  TO  DEATH — MORE 
WHIPPINGS  THREATENED — DEFIANCE  AND  SARCASM — A  CROWN- 
ING ACT  OF  BRUTALITY — FORMAL  APOLOGIES — GETTING  RID  OF 
INCUMBRANCES, 264 


CONTENTS.  XV 

CHAPTER   XXII. 

FLIGHT  OF  "GOODS  AND  CHATTELS."  p^oE. 
▲  SOUTHERN  WOMAN  WITH  NOnTIIEKN  VIEWS — ANOTHER  START- 
LING INCIDENT — A  STEP  TOWARDS  FREEDOM — NOCTURNAL  MYS- 
TERIES AGAIN — BLOOD- HOUNDS  IN  SERVICE — AID  FOR  THE 
HELPLESS  —  PLANS  FOR  ESCAPE  —  SUCCESSFUL  NEGRO  STRAT- 
EGY— PREPARING   FOR   THE   BLOOD-HOUNDS, 282 

CHAPTER   XXIII. 

BLOOD -HOUNDS     AND      HELL-HOUNDS — BANISHED 
FROM    HOME. 

THE  NEGRO-HUNTERS  BAFFLED — A  MESSENGER  OF  GLADNESS  — 
THREATENING   CLOUDS    OF    WAR — BANISHED    FROM    HOME,   .   .   .   302 

CHAPTER   XXIV. 

THE     BATTLE     OF     CORINTH,    AND     SOME     OF     ITS 
HORRORS. 

TO  ANOTHER  FIELD  OF  DUTY — OPENING  OF  THE  BATTLE  OF 
CORINTH — ON    THE    BATTLE-FIELD    AT    NIGHT — DYING   AT    THE 

POST   OF  DUTY — AMONG  THE   DEAD  AND  DYING STRICKEN  AND 

CHASTENED   ANEW — GIVING  CHRISTIAN   BURIAL, 312 

CHAPTER   XXV. 

THE   CLOUD   WITH   A    SILVER   LINING. 

NEITHER  FORSAKEN  NOR  FORGOTTEN — FROM  DARKNESS  TO  DAY- 
LIGHT— A  LITTLE  SUNLIGHT  ONCE  MORE — WISDOM  FROM  BIT- 
TER  EXPERIENCE — SAD   MEMORIES   REVIVED, 328 

CHAPTER   XXVI. 

LOVE   FROM   AN   UNEXPECTED    QUARTER. 
WOOING   WITHOUT   WINNING — A   SHADOWED   PATHWAY, 339 

CHAPTER   XXVn. 

A   DAWNING   AS   OF   BRIGHTER   DATS. 

A  SURPRISE  VISIT — LOVE-GIFTS  AND  GIFTS  OF  LOVE — FUTURE 
HOPES  AND  PROMISES — A  QUIET  WEDDING — AN  EVIL  GENIUS 
AGAIN  AT  WORK, 349 


XVr  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER   XXVni. 

THE   CAPTURE   OF   FORT   FISHER.  page. 

APPROACH    OF    THE    FLEET — THE    BOMBARDMENT — CLOSE    FIGHT- 

IJJG STIRRING   SCENES — FEATS    OF    VALOR — THE    TRIUMPH,    .    .   360 

CHAPTER   XXIX. 

AN   UNLOOKED   FOR   DENOUEMENT. 
ONE    HUSBAND    TOO    MANY — A   CONFLICT    OF    NATURES   AGAIN — 
ON  SECRET  SERVICE — OFF  FOR  CANADA — TO  WASHINGTON  AND 
BACK — DETECTIVES  AT  WORK,  .   .    , 369 

CHAPTER   XXX. 

THE    LAST   ACT    IN    THE   TRAGEDY,  WITH    BRIGHTER 
CLOSING   SCENES. 
CONSPIRACIES    AND     MYSTERIES — DESPAIR    AND     REMORSE — THE 
END    OF    THE     TRANSGRESSOR — THRICE     MARRIED  —  ONE    LEFT 
DESOLATE, 383 


CHAPTEE  I. 
A  NIGHT   ON   THE   JkHSSISSIPPL 

Night  was  closing  in,  gloomy  and  cheerless.  A  pair  of 
dark,  earnest  eyes  looked  up  to  the  starless  sky  with  a  wistful 
yearning  in  their  depths  that  seemed  both  to  plead  and  ques- 
tion. But  it  was  a  girlish  face,  over  which  the  black  plume 
of  her  hat  drooped  softly ;  and  the  slight  figure  around  which 
she  drew  her  shawl  with  a  shiver,  was  tall  and  graceful. 
Only  for  the  earnest  eyes,  and  the  quiet  dignity  of  manner, 
there  would  have  been  Httle  by  which  an  observer  might  trace 
indications  of  an  unusual  strength  of  character ;  yet  this  tall, 
pale  girl,  who  stood  upon  the  guards  of  the  steamer  that 
gloomy  evening  in  March  of  '62,  was  destined  to  fill  no  insig- 
nificant position  in  a  land  struggling  fi)r  liberty  and  peace. 

Standing  a  little  distance  firom  her,  a  young  Federal  officer 
seemed  to  watch  the  shore  with  its  dark,  panoramic  beauty, 
as  they  passed  down  the  Mississippi.  But,  oftener,  his  eyes 
were  bent  upon  the  sweet  face  upturned  so  wistfully  in  the 
dusky  light.  He  noted  the  luxuriant  sweep  of  golden  brown 
hair  from  the  white  temples ;  the  rounded  beauty  of  the  deli- 
cate features ;  the  full  lip,  warm,  and  firm,  and  tender.  The 
face  was  pale  now,  but  a  passing  change  of  feeling  could  bring 
the  warm,  bright  color  into  the  cheeks,  glowing  vividly  through 
the  transparent  skin,  like  the  rich  bloom  of  a  ripe  peach. 

One  little  hand  was  ungloved  and  rested  lightly  upon  the 
guards,  white  and  sof^,  and  dimpled  like  a  child's.  Perhaps 
2 


18        A  STORY  OF  THE  GREAT  REBELLION. 

this  Federal  officer  had  a  weakness  for  pretty  hands,  for  his 
eyes  fell  to  where  it  rested  more  than  once,  and  a  pleasant 
smile  crept  about  his  handsome  mouth  as  he  made  a  mental 
observation  with  regard  to  the  fact  that  she  wore  no  ring 
upon  the  third  finger. 

Both  had  stood  there  for  an  hour ;  both  had  watched  the 
steeples  of  St.  Louis  fade  from  sight,  and  listened  to  the  clang- 
ing machinery  as  they  steamed  onward  ;  but  neither  had  spoken 
or  given  a  sign.  In  truth,  she  was  so  deeply  absorbed  in  her 
own  thoughts,  she  was  unconscious  of  his  close  proximity  ;  and 
he  was  too  much  of  a  gentleman  to  force  himself  upon  her  no- 
tice by  any  remarks,  without  an  introduction.  As  she  shivered 
and  drew  her  shaAvl  about  her,  evidently  preparing  to  retire 
within  her  state-room,  which  opened  directly  behind  her,  he 
was  casting  about  in  his  thoughts  for  a  means  of  gratifying 
the  strong  desire  that  had  found  a  place  in  his  heart.  He 
wanted  to  know  her,  to  hear  her  speak,  and  watch  her  face 
while  talking.  Those  black  eyes,  he  felt  assured,  would  be 
glorious  in  the  light  of  any  wakened  interest. 

As  she  turned  away  to  enter  her  room,  he  heard  her  sigh — 
one  long,  weary  sigh,  that  made  him  feel  strangely  sad  in  re- 
membering it.  He  unconsciously  echoed  the  quiet  plaint  of  a 
doubting  heart,  as  he  paced  slowly  down  the  guards  to  the  gen- 
tlemen's cabin,  where  a  number  of  men  were  busy  with  cards. 

"  Have  a  game.  Captain  ? "  asked  one  of  the  gentlemen, 
looking  up  as  he  entered.     "  Take  my  place  ;  I  am  tired." 

"  Xo,  thank  you  ;  I  never  indulge  in  such  amusements." 

He  passed  on  quietly  to  where  the  Captain  of  the  boat  sat 
over  a  paper,  with  a  cigar  between  his  Hps,  and  took  a  chair 
beside  liim. 

"  We  seem  to  be  going  on  nicely.  What  time  do  you  ex- 
pect to  make  Cairo  ?  " 

"  Sometime  to-morrow  night,  if  no  accident  occurs  to  pre- 
vent.    Anxious  to  get  there  ?  " 

"  Rather.  My  men  are  at  Bird's  Point,  and  I  have  not 
seen  them  for  some  time.     When  our  brave  Lyon  fell,  I  was 


HEROES   AND   HEROINES.  19 

badly  wounded,  and  am  .only  now  fit  for  service  again.  It 
has  been  a  sore  trial  to  me  to  remain  idle  all  this  time.  But 
then  ;  '  they  also  serve  who  stand  and  wait.'  Perhaps  my 
confinement  has  not  been  altogether  useless.  I  have  had  time 
for  reflection,  and  I  feel  that  I  am  a  better  man  now  to  stand 
up  for  my  country's  weal,  than  I  was  before." 

Captain  Norris  looked  at  him  sharply,  puflSng  at  his  cigar 
with  a  zeal  worthy  a  better  occupation. 

"  Strange,"  he  said  at  length,  "  how  hot  young  blood  Is. 
Not  one  of  you,  man  or  woman,  in  the  bloom  of  life,  who  are 
not  willing  to  give  up  all  for  the  cause  you  espouse.  I  sup- 
pose if  death  should  meet  you  to-morrow,  you  would  not 
shrink  from  it,  urged  on  by  your  present  hope  of  glory." 

"  Sense  of  right,  sir !  "  answered  the  young  man,  with  a 
glow  upon  his  fine  face.  "  I  should  not  scorn  the  glory  if 
fairly  won  in  my  country's  service,  however.  No  man  could 
ask  higher  honor  than  to  be  crowned  with  the  approbation 
deserved  in  her  defense.  But  I  hope  no  selfish  wish  for  per- 
sonal aggrandizement  actuates  me  in  the  course  I  am  pursu- 
ing.    Nay,  I  am  sure  it  does  not." 

Captain  Norris  smiled  a  little  doubtfully.  He  was  older 
and  less  enthusiastic  ;  but  he  was  a  loyal  man,  if  practical  and 
worldly  ;  therefore  we  will  not  judge  him  too  harshly. 

"  Well,  well !  I  hope  it  will  all  turn  out  right — that  your 
good  arm  may  help  to  save  our  land,  and  our  dear  land  may 
gloriously  reward  you.  Heroes  and  heroines  !  Of  these  there 
will  be  many  before  this  war  is  ended.  Cast  your  eye  up  the 
cabin.  Do  you  see  a  young  lady  going  to  the  piano  ?  That  girl 
will  be  a  heroine,  or  I  am  greatly  mistaken.  You  would  not 
think  it,  unless  you  could  hear  her  talk  ;  but  let  her  once  speak 
on  the  subject,  and  you  forget  her  baby  face,  and  fancy  it  is  a 
strong  man's  spirit  speaking  through  her  lips.  She  is  going  to 
give  herself  to  her  country  in  her  way — to  attend  the  sick  and 
wounded  wherever  she  can  do  so  properly.  I  can't  say  that  I 
approve  of  women  exposing  themselves  to  slcloiess  and  danger, 
and  above  all  to  harsh  criticism.     But  if  any  one  is  fit  for  the 


20        A  STORY  OF  THE  GREAT  REBELLION. 

duty,  she  is.  Young,  lovely,  fearless ;  and  so  truly  dignified,  no 
man  would  dare  to  approach  her,  save  with  profound  respect." 

"  Who  is  she,  and  where  does  she  come  from  ?  " 

"  Her  name  is  Harmon,  and  I  think  she  is  from  the  East. 
But  I  really  cannot  say  with  certainty  that  it  is  so.  She  is  not 
at  all  communicative  about  herself.  She  came  to  me  for  pas- 
sage down  the  river,  and  put  herself  under  my  care.  I  think  she 
iiitends  to  stop  at  Cairo,  but  she  may  go  from  there  to  INIound 
City,  or  elsewhere,  if  she  thinks  she  may  be  needed  more." 

At  this  moment  a  sweet,  clear  voice  floated  down  the  cabin. 
Both  gentlemen  remained  silent,  listening,  and  looking  at  her 
where  she  sat  in  the  distance  with  a  group  of  little  children 
gathered  around  her.  She  sang  gaily,  piece  after  piece,  amid  ev- 
ident signs  of  delight ;  and  then,  as  a  finale,  came  the  ever  sweet 
and  stirrino;  air  from  Trovatore :  "  Ah !  I  have  sighed  to  rest 
me."  When  it  was  finished,  there  was  a  general  rousing  from  a 
profound  silence,  for  even  the  card-players  had  stopped  to  listen. 
Captain  Norris  drew  a  long,  deep  breath,  and  Harry  Wilfer  rose 
to  his  feet,  pacing  slowly  across  the  cabin  with  his  hands  behind 
him,  a  habit  of  his  when  deeply  moved.  The  fresh,  sweet  tones 
of  the  woman's  voice,  bearing  their  involuntary  burthen  of  sad- 
ness, had  struck  down  to  the  depths  of  his  heart.  With  eyes 
fixed  as  wistfully  upon  her,  as  hers  had  lately  been  upon  the 
starless  sky,  he  finally  resumed  his  seat,  watching  intently  as 
she  played  with  the  children,  and  dreaming  out  her  future. 

"She  sings  splendidly.  Would  you  like  an  introduction, 
Wilfer,  and  ask  her  to  sing  again  after  tea?  Come  and  I  wUl 
take  you  up  now." 

"  Thank  you.  I  wanted  to  ask  it,  yet  hesitated.  Do  you 
think  it  will  be  agreeable  to  her?" 

"Doubtless.  No  fear  of  her  being  over-fastidious,  as  the 
life  she  has  chosen  will  throw  her  unavoidably  in  contact  with 
officers.     But  I  will  first  ask  her  permission,  certainly." 

The  old  gentleman  made  his  way  through  the  crowded  cabin 
to  the  young  lady's  side,  and  from  his  post  of  observation. 
Captain  Wilfer  saw  him  bend  with  stately  grace  over  the  fair 


HEROES   AND   HEROINES.  21 

young  head.  She  lifted  her  face  earnestly,  seemed  to  con- 
sider the  request,  then  answered  him  with  evident  reluctance. 
With  another  bow  Captain  Norris  left  her,  and  came  back  to 
where  the  expectant  young  officer  stood  anxiously  waitincr. 

"  I  have  her  permission  to  introduce  you  after  supper,"  he 
said  with  a  smile.  "Until  that  time,  she  has  promised  to 
amuse  the  little  ones." 

Both  gentlemen  reseated  themselves,  and  Captain  Norris 
resumed  his  paper. 

Following  his  example,  Harry  Wilfer  leaned  back  in  his 
chair  and  divided  his  time  between  his  paper  and  the  scenes 
going  on  in  the  cabin.  There  was  but  one  that  possessed  great 
interest  for  him,  however,  and  he  was  rather  suprised  himself, 
at  the  rapidity  with  which  this  interest  grew  upon  him.  He 
could  not  keep  his  eyes  from  the  group  of  children  of  which 
the  strange  girl  formed  the  centre ;  and  as  their  merry  shouts 
of  laughter  came  ringing  down  through  the  cabin,  he  longed 
inexpressibly  to  draw  nearer,  and  hear  what  was  going  on 
among  them. 

At  length  unable  to  resist  the  temptation,  he  rose  and  went 
outside,  passing  along  the  guards  to  the  other  end  of  the  boat. 
Through  the  side  door  he  entered  the  apartment  occupied  by 
the  stewardess,  and  begged  her  permission  to  sit  down  there 
with  his  paper,  a  privilege  she  granted  under  the  potent  spell 
of  something  he  slipped  into  her  black  hand.  Smiling  broadly, 
she  wheeled  a  chair  beneath  the  chandelier  over  the  cabin  door, 
and  he  took  It  in  quiet  satisfaction,  seeing  that  it  commanded 
a  full  view  of  the  group  he  had  come  to  watch. 

Miss  Harmon  was  seated  upon  an  ottoman,  half  a  dozen 
little  ones  upon  the  carpet  at  her  feet.  One  small  child  with 
golden  curls  clustering  around  her  beautlftil  head,  nestled  lov- 
ingly m  her  arms,  her  great  eyes  uplifted  to  the  lady's  face 
watching  the  motion  of  her  lips  as  she  told  a  marvelous  fairy 
story,  to  which  many  older  people  listened  with  scarcely  less 
interest. 

Captain  Wilfer  listened  also,  almost  breathlessly,  as  she  went 


22        A  STORY  OF  THE  GREAT  REBELLION. 

on  in  her  sweet,  low  voice,  that  could  change  so  wondrousl^ 
with  every  phase  of  feeling.  It  was  a  fascination  to  watch  hei 
features  in  their  varied  expressions,  each  eager  face  changing 
with  their  changes,  as  the  children  gazed  up  at  her,  lost  in  the 
adventures  of  her  story.  Now  and  then  some  quaint  little  bit 
of  humor  crept  into  the  narration  that  had  the  power  to  draw 
shouts  of  silvery  laughter  from  the  rosy,  parted  lips  ;  and  at 
such  moments  her  eyes  would  dance  gloriously,  while  the  full 
mouth  was  drawn  down  into  an  amusing  gravity  of  expression 
that  was  irresistible. 

Perhaps  it  was  the  magnetic  power  of  his  intense  gaze,  that 
drew  her  attention  to  Captain  Wilfer.  He  had  forgotten  him- 
self, and  sat  with  his  eyes  fixed  full  upon  her  face,  when  she 
glanced  toward  him  suddenly,  and  became  slightly  discon- 
certed. The  next  instant  she  went  on  steadily,  but  the  won- 
derful charm  was  broken,  and  she  closed  the  story  with  a 
rapidity  that  proved  but  too  surely  he  was  the  unlucky  mar- 
plot to  the  children's  pleasure. 

A  chorus  of  childish  voices  begged  her  to  remain,  when  she 
had  finished,  and  "  tell  them  another  story."  But  she  drew 
each  little  one  to  her,  kissed  it  softly,  murmuring  a  word  in 
the  ear  that  seemed  to  reconcile  the  small  petitioners,  and  then 
gently  withdrew  from  the  circle. 

Captain  Wilfer  sighed  with  a  sense  of  deep  regret,  but  re- 
mained in  his  seat.  To  leave  it  would  show  too  plainly  why 
he  had  been  there,  and  he  did  not  wish  her  to  understand  that 
the  act  was  a  premeditated  one.  Still  making  use  of  his  pa- 
per, he  was  entertained  by  a  series  of  discussions  among  the 
ladies  on  board,  all  more  or  less  favorable  to  the  young  stran- 
o-er.  "With  her  lovely  face  and  manner,  it  was  no  wonder  if 
she  favorably  impressed  beholders — and  the  interest  she  ex- 
hibited in  the  children  around  her  was  sufficient  to  win  a  place 
in  each  mother's  heart.  Yet,  in  spite  of  all  this,  curiosity  was 
the  strongest  element  expressed,  and  he  heard,  with  a  half 
scornful  smile,  the  various  conjectures  and  remarks,  that  passed 
freely  around,  when  her  presence  no  longer  restrnined  them. 


AN   UNKNOWN   HEROINE.  23 

From  what  he  could  leani  in  this  way,  he  found  that  no 
one  knew  anything  about  her,  save  that  she  designed  giving 
herself  up  to  the  service  of  her  country.  They  had  even 
ventured  to  ask  her  questions  about  herself,  but  she  declined 
with  quiet  dignity  to  answer  them,  saying  in  the  hearing 
of  several,  "  that  her  personal  history  could  be  of  no  possible 
service  to  any  one,  and  she  was  not  vain  enough  to  suppose 
any  real  interest  could  attach  to  her — a  perfect  stranger. 
Curiosity  she  never  stooped  to  gratify." 

After  this  decided  rebuff,  they  were  refrained  from  question- 
ing her  faults  and  contented  themselves  with  surmises. 

Evident  preparations  for  a  summons  to  supper,  caused  the 
Captain  to  rise  and  go  back  to  the  gentlemen's  cabin.  As  he 
passed  the  door  of  Miss  Harmon's  state-room,  the  sound  of  a 
smothered  sob  came  to  his  ear.  He  did  not  dare  to  linger  and 
listen  for  a  repetition  of  that  painful  sound,  though  the  impulse 
seemed  almost  irresistible.  With  quick,  irregular  strides,  he 
hastened  on,  a  nameless  pain  at  his  heart  which  kindled  his 
cheek,  and  knitted  his  brow  in  spite  of  his  efforts  to  appear 
calm.  The  opportune  sounding  of  the  gong  for  supper,  and 
the  confusion  which  followed,  gave  him  opportunity  for  com- 
posure, and  he  took  his  place  near  the  head  of  the  table,  by 
Captain  Xorris'  courtesy,  waiting  the  signal  for  the  gentlemen 
to  be  seated. 

One  chair  at  the  Captain's  right  hand  remained  vacant  for 
several  minutes  after  the  others  were  seated,  and  the  young 
man's  eyes  sought  Miss  Harmon's  door  involuntarily.  Would 
she  come  out  before  all  these  people  and  take  her  place  to  be 
stared  at?  While  he  was  debating  the  question  within  him- 
self, she  glided  quietly  to  the  table,  pale  and  cahn,  as  if  no 
passion  had  stirred  her  sobs  into  audible  soimd  five  minutes  be- 
fore. Perhaps,  after  all,  he  was  mistaken.  But,  looking  more 
closely  at  the  drooping  eyes,  he  detected  a  slight  flush  upon  the 
lids  which  confirmed  the  fact  of  her  distress,  and  he  was  filled 
with  wonder  and  conjecture — quite  as  curious  as  the  women  at 
whom  he  had  smiled  derisively  only  a  short  time  before. 


24  A   STORY   OF   THE   GREAT   REBELLION. 

"What  a  combination  she  must  be,"  he  thought,  remem- 
bering the  different  phases  he  had  witnessed  in  the  brief  S2)ace 
of  his  OAvn  observations.  First  upon  the  guards,  with  that 
wistful,  doubting  expression ;  then  at  the  piano,  full  of  music 
and  mirth,  following  it  by  only  a  change  of  effort  to  please  in 
the  same  vein.  Then  the  quick  withdrawal,  the  sudden  an- 
guish, which  he  felt  alone  could  wring  from  her  sounds  of 
such  woeful  import.  Now  the  quiet,  placid  brow  and  eye  and 
lip,  kept  under  a  control  that  was  marvelous !  '  He  could  not 
believe  that  the  emotion  had  passed.  It  was  only  held  in 
check,  and  his  regards  took  a  reverential  tone,  holding  her 
power  in  the  highest  honor  and  respect.  To  know  such  a 
woman,  would  be  happiness  beyond  any  he  had  ever  known. 
From  that  hour  he  resolved  never  to  yield  his  purpose,  until 
he  had  won  the  right  to  be  called  her  friend,  or  lost  the  inter- 
est which  spurred  hun  on  to  such  a  purpose. 


CHAPTER  II. 

BUENING    OF   A  mSSISSIPPI    STEAMER. 

It  was  growing  late.  Across  the  sky  drifted  great  masses 
of  clouds,  black  and  lowering.  Fitful  gusts  of  wind  swept 
across  the  deck  where  Captain  TVilfer  walked  heedlessly,  his 
head  bent,  his  hands  behind  him.  Few  persons  were  astir  on 
board,  and  he  should  have  been  asleep ;  but  a  haunting  spell 
was  upon  him.  His  was  a  quiet,  undemonstrative  nature  out- 
wardly, but  feeling  with  him  was  deep  and  strong.  He  had 
gained  the  wish  which  a  few  hours  before  had  thrilled  him 
with  anticipated  pleasure  in  the  fulfillment,  yet  he  was  not  sat- 
isfied. He  had  been  presented  to  Miss  Harmon ;  had  sat  and 
conversed  with  her  for  half  an  hour.  Her  beautiful  eyes  had 
rested  steadily  upon  his  face,  and  he  had  been  granted  the 
privilege  of  drawing  her  out — making  her  speak  of  her  wishes, 
feehngs,  likes  and  dislikes.  All  this  but  deepened  the  spell  so 
suddenly  woven  about  him ;  yet  in  the  memory  of  each  re- 
called word,  tone  and  action,  was  a  sense  of  pain.  Through 
all,  her  stately  chilling  grace  had  seemed  to  place  an  insepar-. 
able  barrier  between  them.  With  seeming  frankness,  she  was 
yet  ice  and  rock  to  him.  No  action  of  hers  escaped  the  analy- 
sis of  his  absorbing  interest.  With  almost  jealous  watchful- 
ness, he  had  noted  the  difference  between  her  treatment  of 
others  and  of  himself.  The  warm,  bright  smile  that  wreathed 
her  lips  when  the  kind  old  Captain  spoke  to  her,  turned  cold 
as  her  glance  wandered  back  to  his  OAvn  face.     For  tlie  one 


26  A   STORY    OF   THE   GREAT   REBELLION. 

it  was  sunlight  alone ;  but  for  the  other,  sunlight  upon  glitter- 
ing frost.  The  perfection  of  her  manner  left  him  nothing  with 
which  to  find  fault.  But  she  had  made  him  feel  that  she  di- 
vined his  interest  and  would  repel  it.  He  had  not  offended 
her  by  his  evident  admiration.  Had  that  been  true,  her  lofty 
nature  would  have  scorned  the  mockery  of  a  politeness  she 
might  easily  have  declined  to  extend  to  him.  Nor  was  it  in- 
difference. That  would  have  rendered  her  as  frank  and  cordial 
with  him  as  with  others.  It  was  a  somethino;  not  to  be  de- 
fined  by  words.  For  reasons  of  her  own,  she  evidently  de- 
sired to  keep  him  at  a  distance — to  rear  a  barrier  between 
them,  over  which  he  might  not  dare  to  pass.  It  was  not  that 
she  feared  him  as  one  with  evil  intent.  There  is  a  mao-netic 
influence  emanating  from  the  pure  mind  which  makes  itself 
felt  irresistibly ;  and  by  that  nice  tact  which  seems  to  belong 
only  to  refined  and  intelligent  women,  she  had  made  him  un- 
derstand that  she  comprehended  no  wrong  motive  in  his  seek- 
ing her  acquaintance.  There  was  no  gleam  of  scorn  for  the 
lightness  of  a  nature  content  with  the  pleasure  of  an  hour — 
no  intuitive  shrinking  of  a  pure  from  an  impure  nature.  AVhy 
then  did  the  glance  of  her  eye,  the  chiU  of  her  manner,  say : 
"Between  you  and  me  there  is  a  great  gulf  fixed." 

All  his  nature  was  stirred  from  its  habitual  quiet.  He  could 
not  rest.  For  the  first  time  in  his  life  he  had  met  one  whose 
power  could  enthrall  him ;  and  in  proportion  as  she  withdrew 
from  him,  he  seemed  to  become  more  deeply  involved  in  the 
strength  of  this  new-born  passion.  His  judgment  told  him 
that  it  would  be  well  could  she  check  his  interest,  as  was  her 
evident  intent.  Their  duties  were  before  them ;  their  paths 
would  lie  apart,  and  to  each  was  allotted  a  course  that  might 
not  be  crossed  by  the  other.  And  yet,  it  would  be  a  pleasant 
thing  to  have  the  sympathy  and  coimsel  of  such  a  woman, 
through  all  the  coming  years  of  strife.  He  would  have  been 
more  than  glad  to  watch  her  labors — to  aid  her,  perhai^s — to 
feel  the  influence  of  her  life  near  him,  though  he  might  not 
share  any  part  or  feeling  of  that  life.     Of  another,  he  might 


NOBILITY   OF   CHAEACTER.  27 

have  accused  himself  of  extravagance  in  this  sponiancous  faith 
which  he  found  flowing  out  to  her — faith  in  her  nobility  of 
character — her  strength  of  purpose — her  tenderness  of  heart. 
How  could  he  judge  of  her  heart  ?  By  the  simplest  evidence. 
It  had  been  indisputably  proved  by  her  attention  to  the  little 
children,  who  were  drawn  to  her  as  if  by  magical  influence. 

During  the  early  part  of  the  evening,  the  same  little  golden- 
haired  beauty  who  had  sat  upon  Miss  Harmon's  lap  while  she 
recounted  the  fairy  story,  stole  up  to  her  and  crept  into  her 
arms.  With  the  sweet  face  pressed  against  the  stranger's 
bosom,  she  sat  contentedly  for  ten  minutes — then  the  waxen 
lids  drooped,  and  she  was  soon  locked  in  peaceful  slumber. 
Captain  Norris  was  talking  to  him,  and  Captain  Wilfcr  was 
listening  silently  to  what  he  said,  while  his  eyes  wandered  to 
the  pretty  picture  before  him  as  often  as  politeness  would  al- 
low. He  saw  her  looking  down  into  the  infantine  face  with 
such  an  intense,  wistful  gaze,  it  seemed  as  if  the  whole  soul 
of  the  woman  was  in  her  eyes.  Suddenly  she  bent  her  head 
and  pressed  a  quick,  passionate  kiss  upon  the  child's  parted 
lips.  The  little  creature  stirred,  started  up  with  an  eager, 
frightened  gaze,  when,  seeing  Miss  Harmon's  smiling  face 
above  her  own,  she  sank  back  quickly,  an  expression  of  satis- 
faction upon  her  features.  Nestling  against  her  in  perfect  con- 
fidence, with  her  tiny  hands  clasped  over  the  lady's  slender 
fingers,  she  relapsed  immediately  into  slumber. 

Captain  Norris  was  still  talking,  when  Miss  Harmon  raised 
her  head  again  calmly,  and  turned  her  eyes  toward  the  speaker. 
But  Harry  Wilfer  had  seen  one  shining  tear  fall  upon  the  baby's 
curls,  and  how  quickly  the  head  drooped  lower,  that  her  face 
mio'ht  be  out  of  sight — hidino-  her  emotion  with  a  determined 
will.  Five  minutes  later,  she  was  conversing  with  both  in 
steady,  even  tones,  and  one  wondered,  while  each  was  charmed 
by  her  sweetness  and  intelligence. 

As  Captain  "Wilfer  recalled  all  this,  in  his  lonely  walk  upon 
the  deck,  it  was  no  wonder  if  the  thoughts  this  woman  drew 
forth,  were  intense  and  calculated  to  disturb  him.     Anything 


28  A   STORY   OP   THE   GEEAT   EEBELLION. 

mysterious  fretted  his  open,  candid  nature.  Admitting  that 
it  was  no  business  of  his  to  pry  into  the  secrets  of  her  life  and 
motives,  he  was  still  very  desirous  to  gain  the  knowledge  she 
sought  to  conceal.  At  that  moment,  he  would  have  thoug-ht 
no  sacrifice  too  great  that  could  purchase  the  privilege  of  sit- 
ting beside  her,  and  hearing,  from  her  own  lips,  all  about  her- 
self— the  strange  life  out  of  which  such  a  character  had  been 
formed. 

Suddenly  the  Captain  was  aroused  from  his  thoughts  by  a 
startlinof  sense  of  somethinsj  wrong.  A  strong;  smell  of  fire 
came  from  below,  and  through  the  darkness  he  could  detect  a 
denser  gloom  at  one  side  of  the  vessel,  like  a  huge  volume  of 
smoke.  At  the  same  time  a  half-suppressed  murmur  of  voices 
reached  him,  Avhich  soon  rose  and  swelled  into  clamorous  con- 
fusion. The  boat  was  on  fire,  crowded  with  hundreds  of  help- 
less souls,  upon  the  brink  of  destruction! 

With  a  bound,  Harry  sprang  up  the  steps  to  the  pilot 
house,  and  asked  hurriedly : 

"How  far  are  we  from  the  shore?" 

"  Only  a  short  distance.  I  cannot  run  her  in  further  on  ac- 
count of  the  narrow  channel.  I  will  do  the  best  I  can,  and 
may  God  help  us ! " 

The  man's  voice  was  deep  and  hoarse  with  suppressed  ex- 
citement. Scarcely  able  to  discern  his  course,  he  had  striven 
faithfully  to  guide  the  boat  along  her  dangerous  way;  and 
now  destruction  was  upon  hun  in  a  sudden  and  appalling  fonn. 
Before  Captain  Wilfer  had  reached  the  lower  deck,  a  broad, 
lurid  glare  shot  up,  revealing  to  the  pilot  his  position  in  fear- 
ftil  distinctness.  Hoarse  cries  came  from  every  part  of  the 
vessel,  mingled  with  the  shrill  screams  of  women  and  the  cries 
of  little  children.  They  nerved  him  to  almost  superhuman 
efforts,  and  he  turned  the  wheel  with  a  desperation  which 
brought  her  to,  headed  directly  to  the  shore.  The  flames  were 
creeping  up  the  sides  and  along  the  stem.  He  had  seen  that 
at  the  first  glance,  and  sought  to  bring  his  vessel  round  so  as 
to  give  a  better  chance  for  taking  off  the  passengers. 


PREPARING    FOR  A    FEARFUL   EMERGENCY.  29 

Bells  rang  sharply,  and  were  responded  to  with  prompti- 
tude— but  the  rapidity  with  which  the  fire  gained  every  part 
of  the  fated  steamer  was  terrible.  Those  who  had  any  pres- 
ence of  mind  for  action,  had  succeeded  in  lowering  the  boats, 
while  the  passengers  rushed  to  them  frantically.  With  wild 
shrieks  many  had  leaped  into  the  river,  and  were  struggling 
f  )r  the  shore.  With  a  sick  sensation  at  heart,  Captain  Wilfer 
saw  some  go  under,  and  knew  that  they  would  rise  no  more ; 
but  there  was  no  time  to  lose  in  watching  aimlessly.  He  had 
spent  no  idle  moments  since  discovering  the  fire,  and  after  he 
had  gained  the  lower  deck  to  ascertain  the  position  of  the  fire 
and  calculate  the  time  left  for  preparations,  he  turned  and 
hastened  above,  charging  the  men  to  remain  at  their  posts  and 
answer  the  pilot's  signals  for  the  proper  management  of  the 
steamer. 

Through  the  hurrying,  affrighted  mass  o£  beings,  he  made 
his  way  back  to  the  ladies'  cabin — his  thoughts  upon  Miss 
Harmon  and  her  safety.  She  was  standing  in  the  middle  of 
the  floor ;  a  life-preserver  fastened  about  her  waist,  and  her 
busy  fingers  binding  others  around  such  of  the  children  as 
she  could  gather  under  her  protection.  With  lips  compressed, 
and  face  pale  as  marble,  every  feature  seemed  rigid  with  a 
fixed  purpose.  Captain  Wilfer  caught  her  eye,  and  heard 
her  say  in  quick,  sharp,  ringing  tones: 

"  Help  these  women  all  you  can.  I  have  promised  my  aid 
to  the  children,  and  may  save  some  of  them.  Do  not  fear  for 
me  ;  I  can  swim.     Give  your  help  to  others." 

She  had  divined  his  motive  evon  then,  and  declined  to  be 
the  object  of  his  care.  Glorious  in  her  royal  beauty  now,  she 
stood  as  a  queen  to  command,  and  he  obeyed  with  confidence 
in  her  power,  not  only  to  help  herself  but  to  help  others. 
When  the  last  life-preserver  had  been  disposed  of,  she  grasped 
two  of  the  smaller  children  in  her  arms  and  cried  out  to. the 
almost  paralyzed  mothers  to  follow  her  with  the  remainder. 
Captain  Wilfer  anticipated  her  object  and  was  at  her  side  im- 
mediately. 


30        A  STORY  OF  THE  GREAT  REBELLION. 

"Let  me  go  before,  Miss  Harmon ;  I  will  take  off  one  at  a 
time.  We  are  close  to  the  shore,  and  it  will  take  but  a  few 
moments." 

"  Then  hasten.  The  flames  are  growing  upon  us  fearfully. 
If  we  cannot  remain,  I  will  seek  the  water  and  try  to  sustain 
them  till  you  return  to  help  me.  Oh,  God,  aid  us  to  save  these 
helpless  children ! " 

The  intensity  of  her  voice  thrilled  him  as  he  sprang  into  the 
\vater,  with  a  terrified  child  clinging  to  his  neck.  Its  wild 
scream  was  immediately  smothered  in  the  waves,  and  the 
mother  sprang  forward  frantically — then  fainted  upon  the  deck. 
Some  one  went  to  her  assistance  and  Miss  Harmon  noted  it 
thankfully.  Her  hands  were  full,  yet  she  longed  to  tender  aid 
to  such  helplessness.  In  her  own  superior  strength,  she  did 
not  forget  how  others  were  constituted,  and  there  was  no  con- 
tempt for  such  in  her  mind — she  could  only  pity,  and  try  to 
encourao;e  the  timid  and  fearful  ones. 

Two  or  three  gentlemen,  noting  her  position,  came  forward 
with  a  ready  will  to  help.  They  had  not  been  idle  ;  but  now 
all  they  could  do  was  to  leap  into  the  water  and  bear,  each, 
with  them,  one  of 'the  children  which  she  had  in  chargfe. 
With  suspended  breath  she  conmaitted  them  to  the  mercy  of 
stronger  arms,  and  watched  their  course  by  the  lurid  glare  in 
agonized  suspense.  At  the  same  time  others  were  urging  the 
affrighted  women  to  make  the  attempt  to  reach  the  shore  by 
jumping  into  the  river.  Placed  thus  between  two  destructive 
elements,  it  was  difficult  to  act  with  courage,  but  they  were 
soon  driven  to  it  by  the  scerching  heat  of  the  advancing  foe. 
The  flames  rapidly  enveloped  the  whole  of  the  steamer's  stern, 
and  were  leaping  to  the  pilot  house.  Several  barrels  of  oil 
stored  among  the  freight  had  aided  in  their  advance ;  but  the 
bow  of  the  boat  was  protected  by  huge  walls  of  grain  piled 
from  floor  to  ceiling  of  the  lower  deck.  They  did  not  take 
fire  so  easily,  and  served  as  a  partial  screen,  at  the  same  time 
protecting  the  boilers  from  immediate  contact  with  the  de- 
sti-ojer      In  the  first  discovery  of  the  danger,  water  had  been 


DESTRUCTION    OF   THE   STEAMER.  31 

thrown  over  it  also,  which  served  somewhat  to  retard  the 
flames.  But  now  they  were  drawing  nigli,  and  the  brave  girl 
shuddered  to  feel  the  hot  blasts  upon  her  cheeks,  Avhile  two 
little  ones  yet  clung  to  her  dress. 

"  Here,  jump  into  the  boat,  my  good  friends,"  cried  Captain 
Norris  as  the  men  rowed  alongside  again,  after  leaving  its  last 
load  in  safety.  He  stood  up  panting  and  drenched,  with  a 
face  as  pale  as  ashes.  Nobly  had  he  acted  his  part,  and  Astria 
Harmon  could  but  do  him  honor  even  then,  in  her  heart,  when 
peril  was  most  imminent.  He  handed  them  down  in  safety, 
while  the  wind  tossed  his  gray  hair  from  his  white  temples. 
With  an  exclamation  of  joy,  she  saw  that  the  last  one  was  res- 
cued, and  she  only  wath  one  child  now  remained.  The  others 
had  been  taken  into  the  boat  by  the  mothers,  until  there  was 
no  room  for  more.  This  one  was  the  golden-haired  j)et  of  the 
evening,  who  clung  to  her  so  eagerly  that  she  resolved  to  lose 
her  own  life  ere  she  would  abandon  the  helpless,  confiding 
child.  ]\Irs.  Oliver,  the  mother,  had  been  borne  away  in  one 
of  the  boats  with  her  other  two  children,  and  when  she  hesi-> 
tated  in  anguish,  lest  Lily  should  be  lost  the  brave  girl  bade 
her  go,  and  trust  her  child  to  her  care. 

"I  will  save  her  or  lose  my  own  life,"  she  said,  and  the  poor 
woman  went,  believing  she  would  do  as  she  promised. 

"  I  am  afifaid  we  cannot  wait  for  the  boat,  IVIiss  Harmon," 
said  Captain  Norris  at  her  side,  as  the  smoke  and  heat  began 
to  suffocate  her.  "  Take  to  the  river,  and  I  will  help  you  all 
I  can.  My  strength  is  almost  gone,  but  we  can  keep  up  till 
assistance  can  reach  us.     You  are  not  afraid?" 

"  No ;  I  am  ready.  Go  you  first,  and  I  will  follow.  If 
anything  should  break  my  hold  on  the  child,  be  prepared  to 
catch  her." 

The  next  moment  he  rose  after  his  leap  into  the  river,  and 
looked  around  for  Miss  Harmon.  She  had  followed  him  close- 
ly, with  one  fervent,  audible  prayer  for  help,  and  came  up 
near  him,  bearing  her  struggling  burthen  along  with  one  arm, 
while  she  swam  with  the  other.     They  were  close  tt?  the* 


3U  A    STORY    OF   THE   GREAT   REBELLION. 

steamer,  but  they  did  not  see  the  violent  rocking  of  the  whole 
mass,  which  tossed  the  stream  into  a  miniature  ocean.  Loud 
cries  of  horror  came  from  the  shore,  and  there  was  a  chorus 
of  shouts  which  they  could  not  distinguish  in  the  roaring 
sound  that  fiUed  the  air.  Captain  Norris  had  gained  her  side 
and  gave  her  the  aid  of  one  hand  to  bear  up  her  burthen. 
She  swam  away  bravely,  and  he  kept  up,  exhausted  as  he  was, 
for  some  yards.     Then  hearing  his  laboring  breath,  she  spoke: 

"Tread  water  awhile — it  will  rest  you.  Surely  they  will 
meet  us  soon." 

"I  hope—" 

He  did  not  finish  the  sentence.  One  great  booming  sound 
broke  apparently  over  their  heads,  and  a  shower  of  flying 
pieces  of  the  ruins  descended  upon  them.  A  fragment  struck 
the  old  gentleman  upon  the  head,  and  with  a  low  cry  he  sank 
from  sight. 

"  Oh  my  father,  he  is  killed,"  she  gasped,  stiU  struggling 
upon  the  lashing  waves.  She  felt  the  tiny  fingers  of  the  child 
clasped  with  incredible  force  around  her  wrist,  and  gave 
thought  to  her,  hoping  against  the  fate  that  threatened  both 
with  death,  when  a  stunning  blow  upon  the  back  of  her  own 
head  deprived  her  of  motion.  She  knew  that  she  was  losing 
consciousness — that  the  child  was  sinking  with  her,  gasping 
and  struggling  for  the  frail  life  she  had  so  hardly  striven  to 
save ;  but  she  was  powerless  to  move,  and  they  went  down, 
down  into  utter  darkness.     Then  all  was  blank. 


CHAPTER    III. 

AFTER    THE    DISASTER, 

Harry  "Wilfer  succeeded  in  reaching  the  shore  in  safety 
with  his  charge,  and  placed  her  in  the  care  of  those  whom  the 
boat  had  just  brought  fi-om  the  burning  steamer.  Turning  at 
once  with  the  intention  to  return  for  another,  he  saw  Miss 
Plarmon  standing  upon  the  deck,  a  group  of  women  abovit  her, 
several  children  clinging  to  her  dress,  and  one  pressed  within 
the  shelter  of  her  arms.  She  was  looking  for  him,  the  safety 
of  others  uppermost  in  her  mind,  and  he  responded  to  the  mute, 
yet  powerful  call,  with  a  swift  bound  which  brought  him  to 
the  water's  edge.  His  foot  struck  against  some  object,  wrench- 
ing it  with  a  violence  which  di'cw  from  him  a  sharp  cry  of  pain, 
and  deathly  faintness  followed.  When  he  struggled  to  rise 
in  desperation,  he  grew  dizzy  and  blind,  faUing  unconsciously 
against  the  bank  of  the  stream. 

No  one  heeded  him  in  the  intense  excitement,  and  when  he 
recovered  the  deck  was  deserted — not  a  soul  remained  on  board. 
But  the  red  glare  illumined  the  scene  with  appalling,  yet  grand 
distinctness,  and  he  saw  a  boat  nearing  the  shore,  freighted  with 
a  number  of  passengers.  Two  figures  near  the  vessel  attracted 
his  attention,  struggling  outward  fi*om  the  place  of  danger.  And 
while  his  eyes  rested  upon  them,  a  hoarse  roar,  and  mighty  trem- 
bling soimd,  seemed  to  shake  the  very  air  around  him.  The 
cries  of  those  nearest  to  where  he  lay,  confirmed  but  too  surely 
the  terrible  fear  that  he  felt.  In  one  moment  the  boilers  would 
explode,  and  those  struggling  creatures  must  perish ! 
3 


34        A  STORY  OF  THE  GREAT  REBELLION. 

"  It  is  Captain  Norris  and  that  brave  girl  who  has  done  so 
much  for  our  women,"  said  a  man's  voice  in  the  crowd.  "  Oh, 
is  there  no  way  to  help  them?" 

"  God  pity  them — none ! "  was  the  response,  and  in  the  same 
instant  his  despairing  cry  was  followed  by  the  explosion  which 
sent  the  soul  of  one  noble  being  to  eternity,  and  spread  destruc- 
tion on  all  sides,  hurling  the  fragments  over  the  river  and  upon 
shore.  Then  a  man's  figure  was  seen  to  float  away  and  sink,  but 
tlie  woman  struggled  on  with  her  burthen,  and  Harry  Wilfer 
made  one  wild,  desperate  leap  into  the  water.  The  frenzy  of  his 
excitement  bore  him  up,  and  he  swam  vigorously  till  within  a 
few  yards  of  hei',  when  a  floating  object  struck  her  head  violent- 
ly, and  she  sank,  drawmg  the  child  with  her  beneath  the  waves. 

They  rose  again  within  reach  of  his  hand,  and  he  grasped 
her  desperately.  Almost  at  the  same  instant  the  smallest  boat 
shot  alongside  of  him,  and  strong  hands  hfted  them  into  it — 
the  girl  with  the  child  clasped  tightly  in  her  arms.  When 
they  had  reached  the  land  and  laid  them  down  upon  the  bar- 
ren soil — so  cold  and  bleak  on  that  feai'ful  night — one  was  pale 
and  limp,  the  last  spark  of  life  flown  from  the  tiny  frame. 
The  other  was  white  and  rigid — with  teeth  firmly  set  as  in  a 
mighty  struggle  with  the  destroyer. 

Willino-  hands  were  stretched  forth  and  sought  to  brinsc 
them  back  to  life,  but  the  bereaved  mother  gave  one  wild, 
hopeless  cry,  as  the  body  of  her  child  was  placed  in  her  arms, 
and  fell  forward  upon  the  ground,  sobbing  frantically.  The 
scene  was  one  to  remain  fixed  in  the  memory  of  a  beholder 
through  a  life-time.  Some  had  been  killed  and  many  wounded 
by  the  fragments  which  were  hurled  upon  the  shore,  and  now 
there  were  wails  for  the  dead,  and  cries  of  suffering  from  the 
living,  that  would  have  melted  the  most  stoical  heart. 

"Oh,  God,  where  art  thou? — or  art  thou  pitiless  thus  to 
strike  thy  helpless  creatures  from  life!"  moaned  Mrs.  Oliver 
in  her  anguish. 

"Nay,  are  you  not  afraid  of  this  questioning?"  asked  aE 
other  who  bent  over  her  in  the  effort  to  comfort  her. 


A  GLOOMY  AND   COMFORTLESS   NIGHT.  35 

"How  can  I  help  it?  This  was  my  pet — his  idol — my 
youngest  born.  He  is  sick  unto  death,  and  I  was  taking  his 
children  to  him  for  a  last  good-bye.  Now  he  will  never,  never 
see  her — his  darling  Lily  ?  Oh,  my  child,  my  child !  How 
can  I  tell  him  that  she  is  dead." 

"If  he  is  so  near  to  death,  he  will  see  her  soon  in  a  better 
world,"  murmured  the  gentle  voice,  and  then  there  was  only 
a  smothered  sound  of  sobs  under  the  mother's  bowed  face. 

Captain  Wilfer  turned  back  from  this  scene  to  where  Miss 
Harmon  lay,  attended  by  a  physician  and  several  ladies,  who 
were  giving  her  what  assistance  was  in  their  power,  his  heart 
beating  violently  when  he  heard  the  excited  exclamation : 

"  See !  her  fingers  have  relaxed  and  she  is  movinoj !  She 
lives!  Oh,  it  is  such  a  pity  she  could  not  have  saved  the 
child — she  risked  so  much  for  it!" 

He  could  not  help  it — shattered  with  the  shocks  of  that 
fearful  hour,  and  the  pain  of  his  sprained  ankle.  With  feel- 
ings strung  to  such  fearful  intensity,  these  words  had  a  mighty 
effect  upon  him,  and  with  one  irrepressible  sob,  he  laid  his 
head  upon  the  ground  and  wept. 

As  the  flames  of  the  burning  vessel  abated  and  the  light 
began  to  grow  dim,  it  was  proposed  to  build  a  fire  on  shore, 
and  a  dozen  men  were  busy  instantly,  bringing  such  material 
as  they  could  find,  while  others  went  off  in  a  boat  to  get  fire- 
brands to  light  it  from  what  was  left  of  the  fated  Medora.  It 
was  no  easy  matter  to  light  the  damp,  sodden  mass  which  had 
been  thrown  together ;  but  at  last  a  flame  kindled  and  grew 
slowly,  until  a  broad,  friendly  gleam  rewarded  the  labor,  and 
groups  clustered  around  it  gratefully — women  and  children 
still  sobbing.  Then  they  waited  for  the  morning,  watching 
for  the  signal  lights  of  some  steamer  which  could  relieve  them 
in  .their  doleful  condition. 

The  doctor,  wfio  had  been  busy  with  Miss  Harmon,  had 
her  placed  near  the  fire  and  left  her  in  the  care  of  others,  while 
he  went  to  Captain  Wilfer  in  answer  to  a  suggestion  made 
by  some  one  who  noted  his  pain.     In  a  few  moments  he  had 


36        A  STORY  OF  THE  GREAT  REBELLION. 

stripped  the  stocking  from  the  swollen  member,  and  set  the 
dislocated  joint  skillfully. 

"You  are  in  bad  luck,  Captain,"  he  said  regretfully.  "I 
am  afraid  it  will  be  some  time  before  you  are  able  to  take 
command  of  those  men  at  Bird's  Point.  This  foot  will  have 
to  be  nursed  well  for  a  month,  at  least." 

The  young  man  groaned. 

"  Too  bad,  too  bad !  but  others  have  fared  much  worse.  I 
wiU  try  to  be  patient." 

"That  is  right.  It  is  sometimes  braver  to  be  still  than  to 
act.  Your  time  will  not  be  wasted,  I  hope.  Something  wiU 
come  to  you  that  may  make  you  glad  of  having  received  this 
check  to  your  active  career.  At  any  rate,  since  it  has  hap- 
pened, it  is  well  to  believe  it." 

"Yes.  I  have  been  in  a  good  school,  and  from  experience 
learned  how  much  better  it  is  to  submit  to  our  fate  than  to 
struggle  against  it,  especially  when  it  meets  us  in  such  shapes. 
It  is  not  easy  to  bring  ourselves  to  it  always ;  but  if  we  watch 
the  course  of  subsequent  events,  we  are  pretty  sure  to  see  in 
the  end  what  has  been  gained  by  it." 

"You  are  learning  philosophy  at  tne  proper  time,  young 
man.  Live  up  to  what  you  preach,  and  your  head  will  whiten 
with  old  age,  not  with  care  and  worse  than  useless  fretting." 

"  Call  it  faith  rather  than  philosophy,"  answered  the  Captain, 
slowly.  "I  do  not  claim  the  latter,  but  the  former  I  strive  to 
retain,  simple  and  pure.  As  far  as  I  can  see  my  way,  I  will 
walk  fearlessly,  doing  the  best  I  can.  When  a  blow  falls  upon 
me  in  the  darkness  and  I  cannot  see  the  source,  I  must  wait 
for  the  dawning  light  to  reveal  it.  The  night  may  be  long 
and  wearisome,  but  the  morning  will  come  at  last." 

Doctor  Hart  looked  at  the  young,  earnest  face,  as  the  red 
light  gleamed  upon  it,  and  wished  there  were  more  of  the 
same  kind  in  the  world.  So  simple  and  candid,  and  yet  so 
manly  was  the  sufferer  in  every  way,  the  world-worn,  weary 
observer  of  the  faults,  foibles,  and  evils  of  human  nature,  felt 
an  involuntary   and  strong  sentiment  of  respect  spring  up 


PATIENT   SUFFERING   AND   WAITING.  37 

witliin  liini,  and  it  gave  a  hearty  ring  to  his  voice  when  he 
said,  a  few  moments  later : 

"  There,  tliat  is  the  best  I  can  do  now.  I  wish  it  could  be 
better,  but  no  man  can  work  without  the  means.  I  hope  that 
it  may  be  in  my  power  yet,  i^  a  boat  comes  to  rescue  us  from 
our  disagreeable  and  unhappy  plight.  If  Ave  go  down  the 
river,  1  shall  be  able  to  attend  you  at  Cairo  for  a  while.  Now 
I  must  leave  vou  and  go  to  others.  Some  time  during  the 
night  I  will  ccme  back.     I  want  to  know  you  better." 

"Thank  you!  I  shall  esteem  it  an  honor.  You  are  not 
altoirether  a  strano-er  to  me,  Doctor.  I  have  seen  and  heard 
of  you  in  St.  Louis.  Will  you  add  another  to  the  favor  just 
done  me,  sir?" 

"  AVith  pleasure." 

"  Let  me  know  the  extent  of  the  injuries  under  which  the 
lady  you  have  just  left  is  suffering." 

"The  only  injury  is  upon  the  head,  and  is  not  at  all  serious. 
She  was  stunned  and  the  over  exertion — the  intense  excite- 
ment of  the  night,  with  the  shock,  were  too  much  for  her 
nerves.  In  a  short  time  she  will  rally,  for  she  has  a  good  con- 
stitution.    Interested  there?"  he  added  with  a  quizzical  smile. 

"  Very  much,"  replied  Captain  Wilfer  in  a  simple,  serious 
way  which  checked  further  questions.  The  Doctor  said  no 
more,  but  grasped  his  hand  in  a  friendly  pressure  and  then 
left  him  to  perform  like  offices  of  kindness  for  others. 

That  was  a  miserable  night  upon  the  bank  of  the  Missis- 
sippi where  through  the  long  hours  the  sound  of  sobs  and 
cries  never  ceased.  A  few  were  mute  and  patient ;  many  full 
of  complaints  and  fretting ;  but  the  magnitude  of  real  woe  in 
their  midst,  made  it  a  night  of  unutterable  horror  to  all.  Sit- 
ting with  his  back  against  a  fallen  tree  where  he  could  com- 
mand a  full  view  of  the  various  groups  about  the  fire,  Captain 
Wilfer  fixed  a  scene  upon  his  memory  that  could  fade  away 
only  with  life.  Such  of  the  gentlemen  as  had  been  fortunate 
enough  to  escape  with  their  coats  had  given  them  up  to  make 
beds  for  the  wounded.     "With  one  of  these  and  a  life-preserver 


38        A  STORY  OF  THE  GREAT  REBELLION. 

for  a  pillow,  Miss  Harmon  lay  a  short  distance  from  him,  her 
large  black  eyes  staring  vacantly  into  the  fire,  her  face  very 
pale  and  quiet.  She  was  yet  too  weak  to  rise,  though  the 
ground  was  drenched  with  the  late  rain,  and  the  night  was 
cold.  His  heart  ached  to  see  so  many  helplessly  stretched 
upon  the  wet  earth,  and  to  feel  that  nothing  more  could  be 
done  for  their  relief.  A  few  yards  from  where  she  lay,  sat 
Mrs.  OHver  with  her  two  children  sleeping  upon  her  knees. 
They  had  shivered  and  wept  until  the  warm  rays  of  the  fire 
soothed  them,  and  with  their  poor  little  faces  buried  in  her 
lap,  had  forgotten  their  troubles.  The  mother  was  very  still, 
her  head  bowed  down  upon  her  breast  for  a  long  time.  Once 
she  raised  her  face  and  looked  toward  the  spot  where  the 
dead  had  been  placed  to  await  removal,  and  a  spasm  of  an- 
guish swept  over  it  heart-rending  to  behold.  Then  the  face 
was  buried  in  the  trembling  hands,  and  sobs  shook  the  poor 
woman's  frame  from  head  to  foot.  Miss  Harmon  heard  the 
smothered  sound  and  looked  at  her  compassionately  a  moment. 
At  first  she  did  not  seem  to  recognize  her ;  but  suddenly  a 
thought  flashed  through  her  mind,  and  she  raised  herself  par- 
tially in  her  eagerness.  Seeing  who  it  was,  she  fell  back  with 
her  hands  over  her  face,  large  tears  slowly  trickling  through 
her  fingers. 

"Oh,  my  Father,  couldst  thou  not  have  spared  me  this 
last!"  she  breathed  so  lowly  that  he  could  just  catch  the 
words;  and  Harry  Wilfer's  eyes  grew  moist,  as  they  had 
many  times  before  that  night.  He  knew  how  hard  it  was  for 
the  woman  who  had  risked  her  life  to  save  another,  to  witness 
the  hopeless  anguish  of  the  mother  for  her  lost  one,  and  could 
understand  the  emotion  which  she  did  not  seek  or  think  to 
conceal.  In  every  woman's  nature  there  is  a  tender  chord  of 
sympathy  that  may  be  touched  by  the  suffering  of  man  or 
beast;  but  nothing  so  deeply  moves  the  soul  of  compassion 
within  her  as  the  tears  of  a  mother  for  her  sick  or  her  dead. 
And  perhaps  this  woman,  on  whose  face  his  eyes  rested  so 
earnestly  in  his  mental  questionings,  had  some  dear  memory 


WAITING   AND   HOPING   FOR   RELIEF.  39 

which  strengthened  the  native  sentiment  of  loving  pity  toward 
her  kind — the  memoiy  of  some  cherished  pet  sister  or  friend 
which  had  been  recalled  by  baby  Lily's  blue  eyes  and  bright 
hair.  This  may  have  drawn  her  more  closely  to  that  especial 
child,  giving  her  strength  to  battle  with  death  for  the  precious 
life  sheltered  within  her  arms — for  the  sake  of  something  lost 
out  of  her  own  existence. 

"With  all  these  speculations  running  through  his  mind,  he 
had  little  thought  how  nearly  he  pressed  upon  the  truth — or 
by  how  strong  a  memory  she  had  been  moved  to  act.  He 
could  sit  there  wliile  the  fire  flickered,  and  the  night  waned, 
watching  her  face  with  the  wet  lashes  lying  upon  the  white 
cheeks :  but  he  could  not  see  the  struggle  that  was  going  on 
in  her  heart — how  she  was  striving  against  the  bitterness  of  a 
rebellious  impulse.  No  shadow  of  a  mental  query  was  upon 
her  face,  which  darkened  her  soul  as  she  lay  thinking  in  silence 
of  her  failure. 

"Is  a  blight  to  fall  upon  everything  that  I  touch?  Shall  I 
never  be  able  to  do  good  to  any  one  without  bringing  greater 
e^'ils  upon  their  heads  than  they  have  ever  known?  What  is 
my  sin  that  I  should  be  thus  hardly  punished?  Where  shall 
I  turn — what  shall  I  do?  Oh,  my  God,  if  I  could  dare  to 
ask  a  boon  of  thee  when  thy  hand  has  been  laid  so  hea\'ily 
upon  me,  I  would  beseech  thee  to  show  me  thy  purposes. 
I  am  blind  and  cannot  see.  In  my  nature  thou  hast  made 
me  strong  and  impatient.  If  I  have  no  help  from  thee,  I 
shall  rebel  against  the  evils  that  oppress  me.  Why  stoop  in 
anger  to  so  frail  a  thing  as  I — -thy  helpless  creature?  Or,  if 
thou  canst  bend  to  me  in  wrath,  why  not  show  me  the  cause 
for  my  punishment.  See,  oh  see,  how  impatient  I  grow,  and 
cannot  help  it.     Have  pity,  oh  my  Father,  have  pity." 

Did  that  mute,  yet  almost  passionate  prayer  find  its  way  up 
through  the  starless  night  to  One  who  seemed  so  far  away  to 
many  who  sat  cheerless  and  heart-sick  under  the  weight  of  a 
mighty  blow?  Doubtless,  even  though  no  visible  or  tangible 
response  lifted  the  shadows  from  the  oppressed  soul. 


40        A  STORY  OF  THE  GREAT  REBELLION. 

All  over  our  beloved  land  were  scenes — not  only  like  unto 
this,  but  worse.  While  she  moaned  and  cried  in  bitterness  of 
spirit,  Captain  Wilfer  thought  of  the  dead  and  the  dying  from 
battle-fields  already  drenched  with  human  blood — and  of  the 
desolated  hearts  and  homes  that  would  no  more  glow  at  the 
sound  of  returning  footsteps.  The  measure  of  a  nation's  woe 
was  broad  and  deep — but  not  yet  was  it  filled.  The  sacrifice 
was  only  begun.  Ten  thousand — nay,  thrice  ten  thousand 
lives  would  not  purchase  the  return  of  that  peace  which  had 
so  suddenly  taken  its  flight.  He  could  look  to  the  end  with 
hope,  but  his  was  not  a  mind  so  easily  lulled  to  rest  as  to  give 
credulity  to  the  glowing  predictions  which  had  so  often  been 
repeated  around  him.  One  of  the  few  who  realized  the  pur- 
pose, passion  and  resources  of  the  South,  he  saw  in  prospect  a 
lono-  and  fearftil  conflict,  for  which  he  had  striven  to  fortify 
himself  by  faith,  prayer  and  steady  action.  And  in  this  type 
of  noble  manhood,  we  have  painted  but  an  outline  of  ten  thou- 
sand glorious  dead,  whose  names  to-day  stand  not  upon  the 
roll  of  fame — whose  deeds  are  known  only  to  the  hearts  that 
loved  them  best,  and  hold  them  most  sacred  in  remembrance. 

Just  as  day  was  breaking  over  the  dreary  landscape,  a 
steamer  turned  a  point  in  the  river  and  came  into  full  view. 
One  great,  joy  fill  shout  of  welcome  went  up,  and  tears  fell 
afresh  from  eyes  that  had  done  little  else  than  weep  all  night. 
Sio-nals  were  answered,  and  the  steamer  slowly  came  to  shore 
a  hundred  yards  below  the  charred  wreck  of  the  Medora, 
where  the  water  was  deep  enough  to  land  her.  Eeady  hands 
extended  aid  to  all,  and  the  wounded  were  soon  removed  to 
more  comfortable  quarters.  The  dead  were  reverently  placed 
upon  the  lower  deck  and  covered  over  for  removal  to  a  proper 
resting-place,  while  the  living  went  sadly,  almost  silently  on 
board,  after  their  first  burst  of  joy.  In  less  than  half  an 
hour  from  the  time  the  vessel  landed,  she  was,  with  her  added 
passengers,  steaming  down  the  river  toward  Cairo.  Acci- 
dents such  as  have  just  been  recorded  never  fail  to  create  an 
excitement ;  and  at  this  time,  when  the  country  was  rife  with 


A   MESSENGER   OF   RELIEF.  41 

growing  discord,  everything  startled  us  into  extravagance  of 
action.  The  passengers  vied  with  each  other  in  their  atten- 
tions  to  the  unfortunate  beings  thrown  thus  upon  their  mercy, 
and  while  busy  tongues  kept  up  an  unceasing  chatter,  trunks 
were  depleted  to  supply  them  with  proper  apparel.  Purses 
were  made  up  for  a  number  of  those  who  had  been  left  desti- 
tute, and  kindnesses  showered  upon  them  all  in  every  shape. 

Miss  Harmon  was  among  the  number  destined  to  become 
the  recipient  of  charitable  favors,  though  she  shrank  sensi- 
tively from  the  many  questions  with  which  she  was  over- 
whelmed. The  story  of  her  bravery  spread  throughout  the 
boat,  and  for  the  time  being  she  was  a  heroine  for  whom  no 
one  could  do  too  much. 

"All  this  attention  oppresses  you,  I  am  afraid,"  said  an 
earnest-faced  woman  beside  her  as  she  bent  over  the  sofa 
where  Miss  Harmon  reclined  wearily.    "  Shall  I  relieve  you  ?  " 

"  O,  if  you  can,  I  shall  be  so  thankful! " 

"  Then,  if  you  can  walk,  come  with  me  into  my  state-room. 
There  is  a  wide  berth  there,  and  you  may  lie  down  in  peace 
while  I  keep  watch  over  you." 

"  You  are  very  kind.  How  shall  I  thank  you  ?  Perhaps 
the  others  may  think  me  ungrateful,  but  I  hope  you  will  not. 
No  words  can  express  my  obligation." 

"That  is  understood.  What  can  be  expected  of  you  but 
to  rest  ?  This  is  your  right,  and  I  will  try  to  secure  it  to  you. 
Rise  and  let  me  support  you." 

This  conversation  had  been  carried  on  in  an  undertone,  while 
a  crowd  clustered  around  them ;  but  no  objections  were  made 
if  any  understood  then*  import.  Grateful  for  the  ability  to 
escape.  Miss  Harmon  rose  and  suffered  herself  to  be  led  away 
to  the  stranger's  room,  where  her  weary  head  pressed  the  pil- 
low with  a  sense  of  inexpressible  relief.  Her  new  friend  was 
quietly  attentive,  bathing  her  face  and  smoothing  her  hair 
with  a  soft,  soothing  touch — which,  wliile  soft,  was  full  of 
character  in  its  steadiness  and  confidence.  There  were  no 
wavering,  fluttering  motions,  so  painful  to  a  nerve-shattered 


42        A  STORY  OF  THE  GREAT  REBELLIOX. 

person.  Every  step,  tone,  look  and  touch  betrayed  a  clear 
head,  unwavering  purpose  and  sympathetic  nature.  When 
she  had  made  her  charge  comfortable,  she  retired  and  closed 
the  door  upon  her,  leaving  her  to  the  luxury  of  a  coveted 
hour  alone  with  her  own  thoughts. 

Mrs.  Noble  was  a  bride — had  been  married  quietly  in  church 
one  morning  early,  stepped  into  the  carriage  with  her  newly 
wedded  husband,  and  started  for  the  field  where  his  command 
awaited  him.  He  was  an  officer,  holding  the  rank  of  Major 
in  a  western  regiment,  and  had  been  home  on  a  brief  leave  of 
absence  after  the  fall  of  Donelson.  "While  there,  he  had  been 
married  to  his  betrothed  of  a  fe^F  months,  and  was  now  taking 
her  with  him  to  Paducah,  where  he  intended  to  leave  her  while 
he  went  to  Pittsburg  Landing.  As  she  emerged  from  her 
state-room.  Major  Xoble  met  her  with  a  smile. 

"At  the  good  work  already,  little  wife?" 

"I  could  not  help  doing  this.  The  poor  thing  looked  so  ■ 
wan  and  distressed,  it  went  to  my  heart  to  see  her.  You  know 
every  room  is  crowded,  and  there  was  no  hope  of  getting  a 
place  for  her  for  some  time,  if  at  all.  I  could  not  enjoy  keep- 
ing mine  when  one  who  had  acted  so  nobly  as  she  did  last  night, 
was  in  need  of  rest  and  quiet.  Did  you  hear  how  she  tried  to 
save  somebody's  little  girl,  and  how  many  more  she  did  succeed 
in  saving  by  her  calmness  and  bravery?     O,  it  was  grand!" 

"  Yes,  I  have  just  had  the  whole  story  from  Doctor  Hart, 
whom  I  know.  There  seems  to  be  a  peculiar  interest  about  her 
that  excites  much  attention.  No  one  knows  anything  about 
her — where  she  comes  fi'om,  who  she  is,  or  what  her  circum- 
stances may  be.     Did  she  accept  the  purse  made  up  for  her?" 

"No.  She  took  the  dress  and  shawl  profiered  to  her  by 
some  of  the  ladies  gratefully,  but  refused  the  money  positively, 
saying  she  had  need  of  but  little,  and  that  she  thought  she 
could  readily  supply  her  needs  at  Cairo.  For  awhile  the  people 
so  urged  and  worried  her,  I  could  scarcely  bear  it.  At  length 
I  determined  that  I  would  not,  and  took  her  to  our  room." 

"  Eight ;  and  you  can  find  out  who  she  is." 


ALONE  WITH  HER  SORROW.  43 

"Ah,  you  are  curious.  I  thought  men  were  free  from  that 
most  ridiculed  of  all  weaknesses  in  woman." 

"There  is  something  better  than  curiosity,  little  wife,  and 
that  is  sincere  interest.  If  her  aims  be  what  I  have  been  led 
to  believe,  we  may  be  a  great  help  to  her.  But  for  your  sake, 
I  prefer  to  know  something  about  the  persons  we  may  be  led 
to  befriend." 

"  Certainly,  that  is  but  right.  I  will  not  question  her,  how- 
ever, George.  If  she  chooses  to  tell  me,  it  is  well.  If  not, 
we  must  accept  her  silence  or  let  her  go.  I  never  could  pry 
into  people's  secrets." 

"No  dear,  but  you  may  win  confidence  by  your  own  true 
womanliness,  which  must  meet  a  response  where  there  is  a 
like  character  to  deal  with.  I  leave  you  to  your  own  judg- 
ment, and  shall  be  satisfied  with  the  result." 

He  drew  her  arm  through  his  own,  and  passed  out  upon  the 
guards,  after  first  having  closed  the  door  to  secure,  their  guest 
from  officious  attention.  Muffling  her  more  closely  in  her 
shawl  to  protect  her  from  a  keen  north  wind,  they  paced  up 
and  down  the  guards  outside,  where  they  could  watch  the 
shore  as  they  swept  onward  toward  their  destination. 

And  while  they  walked,  a  woman  came  out  and  sat  down 
upon  a  stool  not  far  from  them.  She  was  broken  down  Avith 
grief,  and  wept  piteously,  bowing  her  head  upon  her  hands  as 
they  rested  upon  the  railing  of  the  guards. 

"  That  is  the  poor  woman  whose  child  was  drowned  in  the 
young  lady's  arms.  Oh,  how  my  heart  aches  for  her !  What 
can  I  do  to  give  her  any  comfort?" 

"Let  her  alone  now.  A  good  cry  will  help  her  more  than 
attentions  which  would  only  worry  her.  No  doubt  she  came 
here  to  escape  all  those  eyes  that  were  watching  her  in  her 
distress.  While  she  gave  her  children  their  breakfast,  I  ob- 
served that  she  could  with  difficulty  restrain  her  emotion. 
Then  some  lady  took  charge  of  them  and  they  fell  asleep  upon 
a  sofa.  For  awhile  she  can  be  free.  Give  her  the  benefit  of 
this  freedom." 


44  A   STORY   OF   THE   GREAT  REBELLION. 

VTith.  a  delicacy  that  proved  true  kindliness  and  sincerity 
of  nature,  they  turned  away  and  seemed  not  to  observe  the 
stricken  woman,  though  her  sobs  smote  very  painfully  upon 
Mrs.  Noble's  ear.  It  was  not  In  her  nature  to  witness  distress 
without  an  effort  to  relieve  it.  After  a  little  time  the  sound 
of  a  room  door  opening  behind  them  caused  both  to  look 
round,  and  they  saw  Miss  Harmon  emerge  from  their  state- 
room and  walk  straight  up  to  Mrs.  Ollvero  The  next  moment 
she  had  fallen  upon  her  knees  at  her  side,  and  with  her  arms 
thrown  around  her  person,  laid  her  head  upon  her  shoulder, 

"  Oh,  believe  me,"  she  said  brokenly,  "  I  tried  my  best !  I 
promised  you  to  save  little  Lily,  but  God  chose  to  frustrate 
my  designs.  If  I  could  give  my  life  to  bring  back  that  sweet 
child  to  you,  I  would  do  it.  My  heart  will  break  to  think 
how  I  failed  when  I  strove  so  hard  to  save  her  for  you.  How 
can  I  comfort  you  ?  " 

There  was  no  response  save  the  clasping  of  one  fair  hand  In 
her  rough  palm,  and  a  sound  of  deeper  sobs.  Tears  rolled 
rapidly  over  Miss  Harmon's  face  and  fell  upon  her  dress,  but 
there  were  now  no  audible  sounds  of  the  agony  she  could  not 
repress.  To  the  eyes  that  witnessed  the  scene,  the  tears,  the 
white  face,  the  broken  words,  and  the  attitude  had  spoken 
enough,  and  they  could  not  bear  it. 

''  She  win  do  harm  to  both,"  Major  Noble  said  in  a  low  tone. 
"  Go,  dear,  and  take  her  back  to  bed.  Such  scenes  are  not 
calculated  to  make  a  man  very  stoical,"  In  testimony  of  which 
assertion,  he  brushed  the  tears  from  his  cheeks  which  had 
gathered  there. 

Mrs.  Noble  obeyed  him  and  went  to  her  charge,  over  whom 
she  bent  persuasively  for  several  minutes  before  she  could  In- 
duce her  to  go  back  to  her  room.  Finally  she  allowed  herself 
to  be  taken  away,  and  once  more  laid  down,  with  her  face 
turned  to  the  pillow.  Mrs.  Noble  left  her  alone  then,  and  went 
to  Mrs.  OKver,  by  whom  she  drew  a  chair,  and  sitting  down, 
took  her  hand  in  her  own  quiet  way,  and  soothed  her  into  a 
partial  resignation. 


CHAPTER   IV. 
SURMISES    AND    QUESTIONINGS   NOBLY   MET. 

"Miss  Harmon,  you  have  not  thanked  me  for  savmg  your 

life." 

"  I  do  not  thank  you." 

"Why?" 

"Because  I  cannot  feel  glad  that  you  kept  me  from  a  sleep 
that  would  be  more  desh-able  than  you  can  know.  You  look 
astonished,  but  smce  you  force  me  to  speak,  I  must  be  candid. 
If  you  had  remained  silent,  I  should  have  left  you  to  your 
own  thoughts,  and  allowed  you  to  think  me  heartlessly  un^ 
orateful.  Now  you  will  be  shocked  and  more  curious  than 
ever.     I  cannot  help  it." 

"  Do  not  try.  I  was  too  strongly  tempted  to  make  you  talk, 
to  preserve  the  delicacy  which  I  usually  hold  dear.  For  an 
hour  I  have  watched  you  as  you  sat  in  that  large  chair,  silent 
and  thoughtful.  You  did  not  seem  conscious  of  my  presence ; 
yet  I  felt  that  you  knew  I  was  here  upon  this  sofa  and  suffer- 
ing. You  are  not  without  feehng,  as  I  have  had  many  proofs 
in^the  last  twelve  hours;  and  I  knew  from  Doctor  Hart  that 
you  asked  who  saved  your  life  in  that  dreadful  moment  when 
the  fragment  of  the  exploded  boat  struck  you.  So  I  thought 
as  I  lay  here  watching  you,  that  you  were  not  glad,  both  by 
vour  face  and  by  your  silence  ;  and  I  wondered  at  it,  for  you 
lu-e  young,  strong  and  full  of  purposes  that  may  be  worked 
out  grandly.  I  resolved  to  make  you  tell  me  why  you  do  not 
thank  me,  even  at  the  risk  of  appearmg  impertinent.     If  you 


46  A   STORY   OF   THE   GREAT  REBELLION. 

saj  anything  it  will  be  in  candor,  I  am  assured.  Will  you 
tell  me  now?" 

"  You  have  a  right  to  ask  this  much,  since  you  have  saved 
my  life,  and  I  will  tell  you,"  she  answered  gravely.  "I  am 
alone.  The  friends  who  are  not  dead,  are  woi'se  than  dead  to 
me.  They  are  rebels,  and  I  am  a  wanderer  from  home,  al- 
most penniless^  and  with  scarcely  a  hope  for  the  future.  It 
requires  more  courage  to  live  than  to  die  under  some  circiun- 
stances.  My  life  is  an  instance  of  this.  I  have  been  strong 
enough  to  maintain  it — even  to  form  plans  for  the  future  by 
which  I  may  make  it  endurable.  If  there  are  times  when  my 
weak,  womanly  nature  shrinks  back  from  the  path  marked 
out,  and  my  heart  longs  for  a  sympathy  it  cannot  know,  the 
fault  rests  not  wholly  with  me.  I  think  I  know  myself.  To- 
morrow I  shall  regret  that  I  spoke  to  you  in  this  way.  My 
duty  is  before  me,  and  I  know  I  can  discharge  it,  in  spite  of 
the  difficulties  which  may — nay,  will  surround  me.  To  be 
idle,  would  drive  me  mad.  I  am  selfish  in  Avishing  to  give 
myself  no  time  for  anguish.  Yet  I  do  hope  to  do  good,  and 
to  carry  out  a  principle  of  right,  maintained  thus  far,  through 
untold  trouble.  Do  not  attach  too  much  importance  to  my 
bitterness.  By  to-morrow  I  shall  have  conquered  it,  and  will 
be  full  of  ambition  and  of  will.     It  is  but  a  passing  weakness." 

"I  believe  it.  Did  anybody  ever  tell  you  that  you  are  a 
strange  woman?" 

An  expression  half  haughty,  half  painful,  swept  over  her 
pale  face. 

"  Yes.  It  has  been  the  bane  of  my  Hfe  to  feel  and  be  told 
that  I  am  unlike  others.  I  do  not  wish  it,  or  court  this  singu- 
larity. Aware  that  I  have  been  created  differently,  I  must  meet 
my  fate,  and  act  myself.     There  is  no  help  for  it." 

"You  think  me  rude  for  asking  you  such  a  question?" 

"Eather.  I  allow  you  to  take  some  hberties  because  I  can 
give  you  nothing  else  in  return  for  your  kind  intentions.  Per- 
sonal questions  are  not  pleasant  to  me,  however." 

"  So  I  perceive.     But  if  I  were  not  rude  and  unusually  for- 


HEAKT-WORK   AND   BRAIN-WORK.  4( 

ward  in  my  address  you  would  not  liccd  mo.  Being  odd 
yourself,  you  must  be  approached  by  odd  ways.  I  could  not 
feel  sati5?fied  to  have  you  leave  me  Avithout  a  word  or  look — 
so  I  forced  both  from  you." 

"It  had  been  kinder  to  let  me  alone — both  to  yourself 
and  me." 

"  You  are  mistaken.  It  will  do  both  good.  I  get  some  in- 
formation that  I  want,  and  give  you  a  knowledge  of  others, 
who  are  as  selfish  as  you.  Think  less  of  yourself,  and  you 
will  be  less  unhappy." 

"  I  have  not  to  learn  that  lesson." 

"Then  you  are  worse  than  I  thought.  There  is  an  excuse 
for  the  ignorant  in  the  sins  of  omission.  What  can  you  say 
in  extenuation  of  yourself?" 

"  That,  however  good  the  will  may  be,  the  ability  is  not  al- 
ways equal  to  its  behests.  It  is  an  easy  thing  to  talk ;  it  is 
not  always  easy  to  act,  if  the  action  must  go  against  inclina- 
tion. Where  heart  and  brain  each  claim,  as  it  were,  an  indi- 
viduality it  is  like  the  man  and  wife  who  each  pulled  the  end 
of  the  rope  their  own  way,  and  gained  nothing  in  consequence. 
Brain  says  go ;  heart  says  stay ;  and  if  we  go  for  the  brain, 
the  heart  will  ache  or  break.  The  rule  works  as  hardly  the 
other  way." 

"There  must  be  some  remedy  for  so  perplexing  an  evil. 
What  is  yours?" 

"  The  head  must  win  the  heart,  or  the  heart  must  win  the 
head.  They  must  work  together.  Sometimes  the  winning  is 
harder  work  than  that  which  follows." 

"  Most  true.  You  are  learning  that  life  is  not  a  mere  farce, 
as  some  people  choose  to  call  it,  but  a  season  for  earnest 
thought  and  action,  where  we  must  suffer  much  if  we  gain 
much.  It  may  even  prove  that  the  gain  is  never  perceived 
until  the  freshness  of  existence  has  passed  away.  Do  you 
realize  fully  all  the  difficulties  with  which  you  will  have  to 
contend  in  the  path  you  have  chosen?  Are  you  strong  enough 
to  meet  and  conquer  them?" 


48  A   STORY   OF   THE   GREAT   REBELLION. 

"TTith  God's  help  I  hope  to  be,"  she  replied  earnestly. 
"  Yes,  I  fully  comprehend  the  magnitude  of  my  undertaking. 
A  very  few,  if  any,  will  understand  me.  I  shall  be  subjected 
to  curiosity — impertinence  perhaps,  at  times.  The  sight  of 
suffering  and  death  must  become  famihar  to  me.  I  must  do 
my  duty  without  hesitation,  where  a  clear  head  and  stout 
heart  wiU  be  indispensable.  My  path  will  He  not  only  through 
thorny,  but  noisome  places.  To  society  I  must  be  steel — to 
my  country  warm,  tender  and  faithful.  I  am  not  romantic  or 
fanciftil.  What  I  choose  is  from  a  sense  of  duty — not  an  en- 
thusiastic hope  of  making  a  heroine  of  myself  There  are  no 
claims  upon  me,  and  none  to  care  where  I  go,  or  what  I  do. 
Being  thus  thrown  upon  myself,  I  choose  to  give  what  strength 
I  may  possess  to  the  best  purposes  within  reach.  Out  of  this 
life  I  hope  to  gain  comfort.  If  I  have  deeper  and  still  more 
selfish  motives  than  I  have  placed  upon  the  surface  for  your 
sight,  it  does  not  matter.  They  are  my  own  and  sacred. 
Does  your  foot  pain  you?" 

This  sudden  question  was  caused  by  an  instant  corrugation 
of  the  forehead  indicative  of  pain,  which  she  detected  as  she 
glanced  at  his  face  to  note  the  effect  of  her  words. 

"  An  occasional  twinge,  but  no  severe  pain.  It  was  a  thought 
which  disturbed  me.     Do  you  intend  to  remain  at  Cairo  long  ?  " 

"It  depends  upon  circumstances.  As  the  army  moves  fur- 
ther south,  I  shall  hope  to  keep  pace  with  it  and  prove  useftd." 

"You  win  not  camp  out?" 

"  Certainly  not.  I  shall  not  be  so  near  as  you  imagine  to  our 
troops ;  if  at  times  I  should  be,  it  will  be  in  a  very  quiet,  re- 
tired way — at  some  farm-house  or  village.  Do  not  think  I 
intend  to  famiharize  the  army  with  my  person,  like  the  angels 
of  mercy  in  sensation  novels.  If  I  familiarize  myself  with 
the  wants  of  the  army  it  wiU  be  a  far  different  thing." 

"  In  the  meantime  how  do  you  propose  to  support  yourself? 
Pardon  me  if  I  seem  rude ;  but  you  have  lost  everything  by 
last  night's  accident,  and  must  have  means  to  live.  I  under- 
stood that  you  had  declined  the  purse  made  up  for  you." 


APPROACHING   CAIRO.  49 

"  Yes.  I  hope  I  am  not  yet  an  object  for  charity,  however. 
If  in  a  strait,  surely  I  may  claim  what  I  need  from  the  Gov- 
ernment, since  my  wants  will  be  moderate.  But  I  have  a 
means  of  taking  care  of  myself.  Why  you  choose  to  ply  me 
with  questions  is  best  known  to  yourself.  I  have  said  before 
that  they  are  not  pleasant.  You  will  admit  that  I  have  been 
amiable  in  answering  them  so  far ;  but  if  you  please,  I  prefer 
now  to  be  excused  from  answering  any  more.  Shall  I  get 
another  cup  of  tea  for  you.  Captain  Wilfer?" 

"  Xo,  thank  you.  I  have  offended  when  I  did  not  mean  it. 
Let  me  crave  your  pardon  and  set  myself  aright  in  your  eyes. 
Believe  me,  it  is  not  mere  curiosity,  but  deep  interest,  which 
prompts  me  to  ask  such  questions  as  I  have  put  to  you  to- 
night. And  let  me  add  in  all  kindness,  that  you  will  find 
many  more  as  much  interested  and  less  fearful  to  offend  than 
I  am.  Your  course  is  a  noble  one,  and  commands  my  deep 
respect.  I  shall  look  upon  it,  if  permitted,  with  earnest  hope 
for  your  preservation  and  success.  But  one  of  your  greatest 
trials  will  arise  from  the  interest  that  you  will  create  wherever 
you  go.  No  man  will  be  able  to  look  upon  your  face,  or  hear 
you  speak,  and  pass  you  indifferently.  What  I  say  may  of- 
fend now,  but  you  may  remember  it  at  some  time  with  a  dif- 
ferent feeling.  I  desire  mainly  to  prepare  you  for  whatever 
may  come.     You  will  have  need  to  be  forever  watchfid." 

She  looked  startled,  and  for  a  moment  half  irresolute.  The 
idea  had  at  once  been  seized  which  he  intended  to  convey,  and 
it  confused  her.  But  after  a  little  thought  the  cloud  lifted,  and 
her  face  wore  again  its  habitually  calm,  collected  expression. 

"  I  understand  and  thank  you,  but  have  no  fears.  I  shall  not 
sleep  upon  my  post  in  an  enemy's  country.  We  are  approach- 
ing Cairo.    Are  you  able  to  walk  out  and  see  it  as  we  land  ?  " 

Major  Noble,  coming  up  at  the  moment,  offered  his  arm,  and 
the  young  man  rose  reluctantly.  Mrs.  Noble  took  Miss  Har- 
mon's arm  and  followed  the  gentlemen  out  upon  the  guards. 
It  was  easy  to  see  that  Captain  Wilfer  regretted  the  interrup- 
tion to  a  conversation  he  had  forced  upon  her  i  but  Miss  Har- 
4 


^0        A  STOKY  OF  THE  GREAT  REBELLION. 

mon  felt  glad  to  escape  from  it,  and  hailed  the  gleaming  lights 
of  dismal  Cairo  with  more  of  joy  than  is  usually  felt  in  ap- 
proaching it.  He  had  not  spoken  to  her  all  day,  though  he 
lay  upon  a  sofa  close  to  where  she  sat  in  a  large  chair  for  two 
hours.  When  tea  was  served,  she  quietly  rose  and  brought 
his  cup  and  plate  to  the  sofa,  insisting  that  he  should  not  move ; 
and  it  was  then  he  had  opened  the  conversation  which  has 
been  recorded,  while  she  sat  thoughtfully  beside  him,  holding 
his  plate  of  toast. 

"  A  sad,  yet  beautiful  sight,"  remarked  Mrs.  Noble  in  a 
hushed  and  tender  tone.  "  I  wonder  liow  many  hearts  yearn 
to-night  toward  the  spot  where  those  camp-fires  glimmer,  and 
the  forms  pass  to  and  fi-o  like  the  fire-worshipers  before  the 
shrine.  See  the  Hght  slanting  in  bars  across  the  waters,  as 
the  glare  of  their  funeral  piles  fell  upon  Omen's  sea!  Many 
a  brave  soul  would  to-night  cry  out,  if  death  came,  as  did 
Hafed  in  liis  enthusiasm,  'Now,  Freedom's  God,  I  come  to 
thee ! '  happy  to  die  in  defence  of  a  cause  so  noble  as  the 
battling  for  freedom." 

Miss  Harmon  said  nothing,  but  the  light  in  her  eyes,  which 
spread  over  her  earnest  face,  spoke  more  eloquently  than 
words.  Here  was  beginning  the  reality  of  a  new  phase  of  hfe 
for  her.  As  she  recognized  it,  she  grew  more  and  more  silent 
and  thoughtful.  Each  looked  upon  camp  and  river  and  leaden 
sky  overhead.  The  httle  steam-tugs  hissing  and  sputtering  as 
they  darted  back  and  forth  from  point  to  point,  seemed  things 
of  life,  swelling  proudly  beyond  their  natural  dimensions  with 
the  importance  of  the  duties  that  were  entrusted  to  them.  Sub- 
dued as  she  was,  Miss  Harmon  could  not  help  smUing  when 
Major  Noble  remarked  upon  them  as  reminding  him  of  small 
people  who  make  a  great  noise  over  little  things.  The  fancy 
had  struck  her  in  the  same  way.  Yet  when  he  turned  to  her 
a  moment  later,  she  answered  his  look  by  a  defence : 

"  Small  things  are  often  of  very  great  importance.  We  are 
apt  to  tliink  '  fussy  people '  of  very  little  consequence,  and  the 
character  enables  them  to  pass  unnoticed  where  greater  people 


life's  purposes  and  requirements.  51 

would  not  dare  to  venture,  thus  giving  them  opportunities 
wliich  others  might  not  embrace  with  any  degree  of  safety. 
I  dare  say  these  same  httle  steam-tugs  are  by  no  means  un- 
important parts  of  our  present  national  machinery." 

"  You  are  right.  They  dash  about  from  place  to  place  rap- 
idly, and  carry  dispatches  of  great  importance.  Is  it  your  hal  )it 
to  put  in  a  plea  for  everything  which  appears  to  be  depreciated  ?  " 

"  There  is  nothing  so  small  or  useless  as  not  to  serve  some 
good  purpose.     At  least,  I  can  take  courage  from  believing  so." 

"Neither  man  or  woman  need  ever  seek  for  courage  from 
such  things,"  spoke  Captain  Wilfer,  gravely.  "The  beings 
formed  in  God's  own  image,  endowed  with  a  portion  of  his 
divinity,  stand  in  his  sight,  large  to  do  well.  He  creates  us 
great  in  ourselves,  because  we  are  a  part  of  himself;  and  he 
gives  us  the  power  to  grow  in  greatness  to  the  end  of  our  days. 
The  strongest  stimulant  we  need,  is  to  stop  and  think  what  we 
are — then  set  forward  with  a  will  to  accomplish  some  purpose. 
Living  so,  how  can  we  look  upon  ourselves  as  'little  things.'" 

"Surely,"  said  Mrs.  Noble,  "we  cannot  arrogate  to  our- 
selves this  'greatness'  if  we  realize  his  full  power  over  us. 
What  are  we  in  his  hands?  Helpless  things,  utterly  tossed 
by  circumstances  as  a  thistle-down  is  blown  before  the  wind. 
In  his  sight,  if  we  try  to  be  Christians,  we  are  as  nothing." 

"  Pardon  me,  madam,  but  I  think  you  mistake  your  Creator, 
and  do  him  great  injustice  in  such  thoughts.  You  will  acknowl- 
edge that  every  life  has  its  earnest,  all-important  purposes. 
These  purposes  are  not  small,  andrequire  no  small  strength,  abil- 
ity and  courage  to  accomplish  them.  He  would  never  create 
insignificant  creatures  to  do  his  mighty  works,  and  I  hold  that 
as  his  instruments,  we  are  great ;  and,  being  great,  largely  re- 
sponsible. The  Christian  who  realizes  this,  will  think  well  of 
himself  for  the  sake  of  what  has  been  to  him  entrusted." 

"  I  never  took  such  a  view  of  it,  yet  I  must  say  I  like  your 
idea,  novel  as  it  is.  Yours  is  the  best  plea  I  have  ever  heard 
for  self-esteem.     What  do  you  think  of  it  Miss  Harmon?" 

"  That  the  man  who  feels  thus,  has  more  than  the  outline 


52  A   STORY    OF   THE    GREAT   REBELLION. 

of  a  grand  and  g-lorlous  life  foreshadowed,"  she  answered  in 
a  low,  yet  clear  and  positive  tone.  Both  gentlemen  looked  at 
her  with  deepening  interest ;  and  one  was  inspired  to  a  sort  of 
enthusiasm  for  noble  deeds,  though  his  lips  uttered  nothing. 

A  short  time  passed  in  silence,  and  Major  Noble  proposed 
that  they  should  go  on  shore.  Captain  Wilfer  was  removed 
first,  but  before  the  officers  who  came  for  him,  conveyed  him 
away,  he  had  a  moment's  time  to  speak  with  Miss  Harmon. 

"  I  know  nothing  of  your  plans,  or  where  you  intend  to  go 
from  here.  I  think  you  said  you  did  not  yourself  know. 
May  I  ask  one  favor  before  we  part  to-night?  It  is  to  keep 
me  advised  of  your  whereabouts,  and  if  ever  you  need  a 
friend's  assistance,  to  call  upon  me  as  you  would  upon  a  broth- 
er. In  this  I  have  no  wish  save  to  serve  you  as  a  woman 
whose  purposes  I  honor.  The  memory  of  your  face,  and  your 
character  as  I  understand  it,  will  be  to  me  a  refreshing  power. 
I  shall  be  a  better  man  for  what  you  have  made  me  see  and 
feel.  Never  forget  how  much  you  hold  in  your  hands,  for 
your  power  is  greater  than  you  know.  My  address  is  on  this 
card.  If  by  any  chance  I  should  fail  to  see  you  again  at  this 
place,  pray  let  me  hear  from  you?" 

"I  will  promise  nothing.  Captain  Wilfer.  It  is  not  right 
that  I  should.  If  our  paths  should  ever  cross  in  the  future, 
I  shall  be  glad  to  see  you — glad  to  aid  you  if  you  need  my 
aid.  But  I  must  never  go  beyond  my  duty,  and  trust  that 
you  will  remember  me  with  no  more  than  a  passing  thought. 
Shall  I  say  good-bye,  now?" 

She  held  out  her  hand,  and  he  took  it  respectfully.  Had 
he  followed  his  impulse,  he  would  have  raised  it  to  his  lips, 
but  he  dared  not  thus  express  the  deep  emotion  which  he 
could  with  difficulty  control. 

"'  It  is  useless  to  say  that  I  regret  your  denial,  since  I  could 
only  make  the  request  from  a  strong  desire  to  have  it  granted," 
he  said  slowly.  "  And  to  say  that  I  can  remember  you  only 
with  a  passing  thought,  would  not  be  true.  It  is  impossible. 
I  am  more  interested  in  you  and  your  future  than  I  dare  to  ex-* 


UNSATISFACTORY  ADIEUX.  53 

press ;  but  I  must  accept  your  decision.  May  you  be  successful 
and  happy.  Should  we  ever  meet  again,  I  shall  pray  that  the 
shadow  may  be  Hfted  from  the  fair,  sweet  face  of  one  who  has 
known  sorrow  but  too  early.  God  bless  you,  and  good-bye." 
JSIiss  Harmon  bowed  in  so  stately  a  maimer  as  to  appear 
cold,  and  he  sighed  in  turning  away,  chilled  to  the  heart. 
Had  he  looked  back  in  passing  down  the  cabin,  he  might  have 
seen  a  different  expression  in  her  face — an  expression  of  min- 
gled gratitude,  pity  and  regret. 

Cairo  is  not  a  pleasant  place  at  any  time,  and  our  friends 
found  it  almost  intolerable,  when,  after  walking  through  the 
deep  mud  upon  the  levee,  for  some  distance,  they  arrived  in  a 
most  miserable  phght  at  the  St.  Charles  Hotel.  No  mode  of 
conveyance  was  provided  for  strangers ;  and  as  it  was  quite 
dark,  they  were  forced  to  make  their  way  as  best  they  could, 
by  the  light  of  a  borrowed  lantern.  Then,  after  havino- 
reached  the  point  for  which  they  auned,  and  climbed  the  broad 
stairway  to  the  parlor  floor,  they  found  that  every  room  was 
engaged,  and  no  hope  of  any  kind  of  accommodations  in  the 
house.  The  reception  room  and  parlors  looked  utterly  cheer- 
less and  dimly  lighted ;  but  half  warmed,  with  soiled  carpets 
and  tattered  furniture,  the  prospect  was  anything  save  invit- 
ing. Mrs.  Xoble  laughed  cheerily,  however,  and  put  her  little 
feet  upon  the  stove  hearth  with  a  merry  declaration  of  inde- 
pendence. Her  husband  looked  grave  and  annoyed,  and  with 
a  woman's  ready  tact  she  sought  to  dispel  it,  while  Miss  Har- 
mon gently  drew  Mrs.  Oliver  to  one  of  the  two  sofas  in  the 
room  and  made  her  lie  down. 

"  Kest,"  she  said  kmdly,  "  and  I  will  try  to  take  care  of 
your  children  until  a  room  is  vacated ;  then  you  shall  have  a 
better  resting  place." 

Mrs.  Oliver's  eyes  filled  as  she  looked  up  into  the  face  of 
her  benefactress.  Some  thought  had  swept  suddenly  through 
her  mind  of  which  she  repented,  and  she  spoke  deprecatingly, 
as  if  she  had  given  utterance  to  It  in  words. 

"  Never  think  I  blamed  you.     All  that  a  body  could  do,  you 


54        A  STOEY  OF  THE  GKEAT  EEBELLION. 

have  done  for  me,  and  I  do  n't  want  you  to  think  me  ungrate- 
ful. Do  n't  let  me  hurt  your  feelings.  I  could  not  help  the 
thought,  as  you  said  it,  as  how  you  'd  failed  before.  Thank 
you  kindly  for  your  offer,  and  I  '11  try  to  get  some  sleep,  for 
I  'm  a'most  heart-broke.  Oh,  Lordy,  I  wonder  what  folks 
have  to  suffer  so  much  for?" 

She  turned  her  face  toward  the  back  of  the  sofa,  and  was 
silent,  leaving  her  little  ones  to  the  care  of  IVIiss  Harmon 
without  another  word.  Astrea  sighed  bitterly,  and  with  pale, 
compressed  Hps,  bent  to  gather  the  children  closely  to  her 
upon  either  side,  as  she  sat  upon  a  low  chair  near  the  sofa. 
They  had  been  hastily  clad  in  various  garments,  the  gifts  of 
strangers  to  the  unfortunate,  and  with  the  events  of  the  last 
night  still  brooding  over  them,  looked  forlorn  and  desolate 
enough.  Major  Noble  went  out  to  make  some  inquiries  at 
the  oflSce,  and  his  wife  dropped  her  assumed  gayety  instantly. 

"  Come  here,  httle  boy — what  is  your  name  ? — and  sit  upon 
this  chair  beside  me.  I  will  take  your  head  in  my  lap,  and 
you  may  go  to  ^leep.  The  lady  will  take  care  of  your  sister, 
but  both  of  you  will  wear  her  out.     "WUl  you  come?" 

"  Do  I  tire  you,"  he  asked  sunply,  looking  up  in  Astrea's  face. 

"No,  my  dear,  you  do  not." 

"Then  let  me  stay  with  you.  I  like  you  the  best.  You 
tell  such  pretty  stories.     Tell  me  one  now,  won't  you?" 

Mrs.  Oliver  stirred  uneasily  upon  the  sofa,  as  if  the  child's 
request  had  recalled  too  keenly  the  scene  of  the  night  previ- 
ous; but  when  Miss  Harmon  hesitated  painfully,  fearing  to 
cause  distress,  she  said  in  a  quiet  tone : 

"Never  mind  me,  lady,  if  it 's  not  asking  too  much  of  you. 
The  poor  Mttle  things  hain't  much  to  comfort  them." 

So  she  sat  holding  the  two  httle  curly  heads  upon  her  knees, 
and  repeated  a  long,  marvelous  fairy  story,  which  served  to 
interest  not  only  her  small  audience,  but  to  divert  her  own 
mind  from  painful  thoughts.  By  the  time  she  had  finished,  a 
servant  came  in  to  inquire  if  a  INIiss  Harmon  was  there? 

"I  am  Miss  Harmon,"  she  said.     "What  do  you  wish?" 


LOOKING   HOPEFULLY   INTO   THE   FUTURE.  55 

"  Only  to  say  that  a  gentleman  has  kindly  vacated  his  room, 
and  places  it  at  your  service,  as  he  expects  to  leave  soon,  and 
a  few  hours  will  not  m'ake  much  difference.  It  is  ready,  and 
I  will  show  you  to  it,  if  you  please." 

"Thank  the  gentleman  in  my  name,  and  say  that  I  accept 
it  gratefully,  for  a  bereaved  woman  and  her  little  children. 
Come,  ]\rrs.  Oliver,  and  I  will  go  with  you  and  assist  in  put- 
ting the  bairns  to  bed." 

She  made  no  remonstrance,  and  in  a  few  moments  they  were 
in  a  small  room  upon  the  parlor  floor,  where  stood  a  w^ide  bed, 
a  wash-stand,  and  a  chair.  IMiss  Harmon  took  the  little  girl 
and  undressed  her,  tucking  her  under  the  covering  with  the 
kindness  of  a  mother.  "When  the  three  lay  calmly  upon  the 
couch  with  a  grateful  sense  of  rest,  Astrea  knelt  at  their  side 
and  offered  up  a  simple,  earnest  prayer.  Then  she  went  back 
to  Mrs.  Noble  and  they  talked  together  for  an  hour  before  the 
Major  came  in. 

"  At  last  I  have  obtained  a  resting  place  for  you,"  he  said 
in  evident  relief,  laying  his  hand  fondly  on  his  wife's  shoulder. 
"  You  will  take  Miss  Harmon  with  you  and  I  will  sleep  here 
on  the  sofa  or  the  floor  until  morning,  Avhich  is  not  far  off. 
Nay,  never  look  so  deprecatingly  at  me.  Miss  Harmon.  This 
is  only  a  very  small  part  of  what  we  must  endure  for  our 
country's  sake.  There  will  be  many  nights  when  we  shall 
have  no  other  covering  than  the  sky — no  other  pillow  than 
the  damp  earth.  My  little  wife  expects  this  for  me,  and  she 
is  now  having  the  initiatory  lessons  in  a  soldier's  life."  * 

Mrs.  Noble  looked  up  into  the  pleasant,  manly  face  of  "her 
husband  with  a  proud  smile,  then,  without  any  show  of  hesi- 
tation, turned  her  lips  lo  the  hand  resting  upon  her  shoulder. 

"I  shall  have  the  comfort,  come  what  may,"  she  said  quiet- 
ly, "  of  kno^ving  that  I  never  stood  between  my  husband  and 
his  duty." 

They  rose,  and  preceded  by  the  Major  retired  to  a  rooni 
some  one  else  had  vacated  for  the  accommodation  of  the  la- 
dies.    Evidently  it  had  been  known  that  Mss  Harmon  had 


56  A   STORY   OF   THE   GREAT   REBELLION. 

given  the  room  provided  for  her  comfort  to  one  more  in  need, 
and  the  possessor  of  the  one  now  placed  at  their  disposal,  was 
for  "  the  ladies  " — which  the  Major  was  only  too  glad  to  accept. 

After  seeing  them  safely  inside  the  door,  the  gentleman  bade 
them  good  night  and  went  to  his  sofa  in  the  forlorn  parlor. 
In  less  than  half  an  hour  all  had  fallen  into  peaceful  slumber. 

"  You  will  go  with  us  to  Paducah,"  Mrs.  Noble  said  to  Miss 
Harmon  at  breakfast  the  next  morning. 

"When  do  you  leave?" 

"This  afternoon  there  will  be  a  boat,  and  then  we  expect 
to  go  up  the  Ohio.  From  what  I  can  learn,  we  are  sadly 
needed  there — two  or  three  hospitals  and  not  a  single  Union 
woman  to  attend  to  the  wants  of  the  sufferers.  The  inhabi- 
tants are  terribly  rebellious.  I  want  you  very  much,  for  the 
Major  will  have  to  go  straight  to  Pittsburg  Landing,  and  I 
shall  be  entirely  alone.  It  is  not  brave  to  dread  it,  I  know, 
but  I  do  dread  the  first  few  days  exceedingly." 

"I  cannot  go  with  you;  I  will  come  as  soon  as  possible. 
My  first  duty  is  to  Mrs.  Oliver.  Her  husband  is  at  Mound 
City,  and  dying.  She  is  striving  to  get  his  children  to  him 
for  a  last  good-bye ;  I  must  assist  her  all  hn  my  power.  Poor 
creature!  I  have  just  been  in  to  see  if  she  had  a  palatable 
breakfast.  Major,  and  her  face  is  the  saddest  proof  of  misery 
I  have  ever  looked  upon — so  wan  and  hopeless." 

"You  do  right  to  stay  by  her  in  her  trouble,"  he  said  earn- 
estly. "I  will  procure  for  you  a  military  pass,  and  when  you 
have  done  all  you  can  for  her  come  to  my  wife.  At  all  times, 
as  a  servant  of  my  country,  you  must  command  me  in  any 
way  that  I  can  serve  you.    Promise  that  you  will  not  hesitate." 

"I  will  not,  indeed,  and  thank  you  most  gratefully." 

Soon  after  the  above  conversation  Mrs.  Oliver  with  her 
little  ones,  accompanied  by  Astrea  Harmon,  set  out  for  Mound 
City  on  a  small  boat  which  ran  between  that  place  and  Cairo. 
And  on  the  following  morning  soon  after  daylight,  Mrs.  No- 
ble found  herself  occupying  a  rather  dreary-looking  room  in 
the  St.  Francis  Hotel  at  Paducah. 


CHAPTER    V. 

LIFE   AND    DEATH    IN   A  mLITAKY    HOSPITAL. 

The  sun  came  forth  and  was  shining  brightly  when  the  two 
women  arrived  at  !Mound  City  and  walked  up  to  a  small  hos- 
pital to  inquire  for  "William  Oliver.  A  boy  not  above  seven- 
teen or  eighteen  years  of  age  sat  upon  the  steps  with  a  blanket 
dra^vn  closely  around  him,  seeming  to  enjoy  the  warmth  and 
brightness  of  the  spring  day.  To  ]\Iiss  Harmon's  question, 
he  answered  readily. 

"  Don't  know.  Miss,  but  the  steward  can  tell  ye  in  a  minit. 
That's  him  just  gone  inter  the  hospital — that  feller  with  the 
red  head." 

Astrea  looked,  and  saw  a  large,  rough  looking  man  passing 
along  a  row  of  berths,  visible  through  the  open  door.  Mrs. 
Oliver  stood  pale  and  trembling  at  the  entrance,  while  Miss 
Harmon  followed  and  accosted  the  steward. 

"WilHam  Oliver?— No.  40.  I'm  afraid  he's  dead,  Miss. 
"When  I  saw  him  an  hour  ago,  he  seemed  to  be  a  breathin'  his 
last.     Come  this  way  an'  I'll  see." 

She  went  with  him  through  a  little  side  door,  and  saw  in 
a  small  room  four  or  five  berths,  on  which  lay  men  in  the  last 
agonies  of  death.  The  steward  pointed  to  one  with  the  No. 
40  on  the  foot  of  the  berth,  and  turned  abruptly  away. 

The  occupant  was  not  dead,  but  lay  with  closed  eyes, 
breathing  faintly.  She  laid  har  h^nd  upon  his  forehead  aad 
called  in  a  low  voice : 

'Olr.  Oliver,  are  you  asleep? 


58        A  STORY  OF  THE  GREAT  REBELLION. 

He  stirred,  then  opened  his  large,  brown  eyes  with  a  won- 
dering- gaze. 

"  What  is  it  ?     Has  Lizzie  come  ?  " 

"  Do  you  mean  your  wife  ?  " 

"Yes.     Did  she  bring  the  children?" 

"  She  has  come,  and  the  two  eldest  are  with  her.  Shall'  I 
bring  her  to  you  now?" 

"O,  yes.     Why  did  she  not  come  at  first?" 

"I  wanted  to  see  if  you  were  asleep.  Now  be  calm,  and 
she  will  come  in  one  minute.  You  know  it  will  not  do  for 
you  to  get  excited,  don't  you?" 

"O,  I  won't;  teU  her  to  come  quick." 

Astrea  went  out,  and  approached  the  woman  with  a  smile. 
The  strained,  agonized  expression  passed  from  Mrs.  OHver's 
face  when  she  saw  it. 

"He  is  here,  and  awake,  waiting  anxiously  to  see  you. 
Come  darlings,  and  see  papa." 

Leading  them  all  to  the  door,  she  gently  put  the  wife  for- 
ward first,  holding  back  the  children,  to  give  their  mother  time 
to  greet  the  man  she  had  come  to  see  die.  With  a  bitter  cry  she 
sprang  forward  and  fell  upon  her  knees  beside  him,  covering  his 
white  face  and  thin  hands  with  kisses.  Her  sobs  mingled  with 
the  moans  of  the  sufferers  around  them,  and  amid  it  all,  the 
faint,  broken  voice  of  the  husband  was  almost  lost.  Astrea 
caught  a  few  words,  and  tears  rained  over  her  cheeks  silently. 

"I  thought  you'd  never  come,  Lizzie.  Where's  the  baby? 
Didn't  you  fetch  her  along  ?  " 

A  prolonged  cry  answered  this  query,  but  before  Mrs.  Oliver 
could  speak,  Astrea  stepped  forward  and  presented  the  chil- 
dren, who  still  clung  to  her  hand. 

"  See,  here  are  two  of  your  bairns.  They  have  come  such 
a  long  way  to  see  their  poor  sick  papa,  and  now  they  want 
hun  to  speak  to  them." 

"  My  boy,"  murmured  the  man,  his  eyes  lighting  proudly. 
"  This  is  my  little  man,  and  he's  going  to  be  a  soldier.  Here's 
chickey,  too,  who  always  sings  for  papa.     Kiss  me,  dearies." 


LAST   HOURS    OF  A   SOLDIER.  59 

The  boy  went  up  to  his  flither  and  gravely  kissed  his  lips ; 
but  the  little  girl  shrank  timidly  back.  Astrea  lifted  her  up 
and  held  her  over  the  berth.  As  the  soft,  shy  lips  touched  the 
sick  man's  mouth,  two  large  tears  stole  down  his  thin  cheeks. 

"  She  don't  know  me,"  he  said  huskily ;  "  I've  been  gone  such 
a  long  time.     Wife,  where's  Lily  ?  " 

"Oh,  William,  don't!  I  couldn't  bring  her,  I  couldn't! 
I  did  try,  but  God  wouldn't  let  me.    Don't  ask  me  about  Lily." 

"  You  tell  me,"  he  said,  looking  at  IMiss  Harmon  wistfully. 
"  Tell  me  if  anything  has  happened  to  her.     I  can  bear  it." 

"  We  left  her  at  Cairo.  One  night  after  dark  we  got  there, 
and  when  we  went  to  the  hotel,  some  kind  fi-iends  took  little 
Lily  while  she  slept,  and  cared  for  her.  The  next  morning 
we  went  to  a  quiet  little  graveyard,  and  put  Lily  to  rest — safe 
from  all  troubles  in  this  wearying  world." 

Over  the  sick  man's  face  swept  such  a  radiant  light,  Astrea 
looked  down  at  him  in  wonder. 

"I  shall  not  be  alone,  when  I  get  there,"  he  murmured. 
"She  will  meet  me — my  pet  birdie;  I  dreaded  to  go  all  by 
myself,  but  now  I  shall  have  her.  Poor  Lizzie !  You  were 
afraid  to  tell  me.  Don't  cry.  I  am  sorry  for  you,  but  you'll 
have  two  and  I'll  have  one.    After  awhile  you'll  all  come  to  us." 

"  Oh,  don't  leave  me !  you  won't  die,  you  won't  die,  Wil- 
liam!    I  can't  give  you  up — oh  I  can't,  I  can't!" 

The  sick  man  struggled  visibly  for  calmness,  but  Astrea 
saw  the  grey  hue  spreading  fast  over  his  face — ^precursor  of 
that  death  which  was  inevitable.  In  alarm  she  strove  to  quiet 
the  ft-antic  wife  by  urging  upon  her  the  necessity  for  calmness, 
but  in  vain.  Mrs.  Oliver  sobbed  and  wrung  her  hands,  ut- 
terly overcome  with  grief,  and  the  children  awed  and  fi'ight- 
ened  by  the  scene,  wept  piteously  with  her,  while  the  husband 
and  father  lay  breathing  out  his  life.  The  shock  of  excite-^ 
ment  had  been  too  great,  and  consciousness  soon  deserted  him. 
Out  of  this  state  he  never  woke  again ;  but  just  as  the  sun 
set,  his  spirit  passed  away,  and  his  widow  and  orphans  were 
left  helpless,  thrown  upon  the  charity  of  the  world. 


60  A   STORY   or   THE   GREAT   REBELLION. 

Miss  Harmon  found  a  shelter  for  her  charges  that  night  un- 
der the  roof  of  one  of  the  citizens  of  the  place.  For  the  dead 
was  prepared  a  private  soldier's  coffin,  and  the  day  succeed- 
ing, they  bore  him  back  to  Cairo  to  a  grave  beside  his  child. 
Then  Astrea  placed  Mrs.  Ohver  and  her  children  on  board  a 
steamer  bound  for  St.  Louis.  The  Captain  promised  to  give 
them  the  kindest  attention,  and  she  turned  to  say  good-bye 
with  a  heavy  heart,  reluctant  to  leave  one  so  helpless,  to  the 
mercies  of  a  heartless  world. 

"  When  you  get  home,  send  a  letter  to  me  at  Paducah,  Ken- 
tucky," she  said  while  holdmg  Mrs.  Ohver's  hand.  "I  have 
put  my  address  upon  this  piece  of  paper,  and,  if  I  am  not  there, 
will  send  for  your  letter.  As  soon  as  I  am  able  to  do  it  I  will 
send  you  the  remains  of  your  husband  and  child,  that  you 
may  have  the  poor  comfort,  at  least,  of  weeping  over  their 
graves.  I  can  do  no  more  for  you  now,  save  to  pray  that 
God  will  guard  you  safely  home.     Good-bye." 

"Good-bye,  dear  angel,"  sobbed  Mrs.  Oliver,  smking  upon 
her  knees  and  holding  one  little  hand  in  both  her  own.  "  I 
can't  thank  you — I  don't  know  how,  for  words  ain't  strong 
enough.     But  He'll  bless  you  a  thousand  fold." 

With  an  imjDulse  of  deep  pity,  while  her  tears  fell  fast,  As- 
trea stooped  and  kissed  the  woman's  forehead,  raised  her  ten- 
derly, and  turned  away  to  press  a  parting  kiss  upon  the  lips 
of  the  little  ones  who  clung  to  her  sorrowfully.  As  soon  as 
Bhe  could  break  away  from  them,  Astrea  left  the  children,  and 
without  looking  back,  ran  down  the  stairs,  across  the  plank 
and  up  the  levee  toward  the  St.  Charles.  From  the  parlor 
window,  a  short  time  after,  she  saw  the  boat  leave  the  wharf, 
and  steam  up  the  river  toward  St.  Louis. 

The  remainder  of  the  day  was  passed  drearily,  waiting  for 
a  boat  to  take  her  to  Paducah.  But  it  was  night  before  a 
vessel  came,  and  then  it  was  only  a  government  boat,  stripped 
of  every  convenience,  and  devoted  to  the  transportation  of 
troops  and  stores. 

"Surely  you  will  not  venture  on  that,"  said  the  clerk  who 


A   NEW    FIELD    OF    LABOR.  61 

came  at  her  request,  to  advise  her  of  it.  "The  trip  would  be 
very  unpleasant." 

'^I  shall  have  worse  things  to  bear,  doubtless,  before  this 
\var  ends.  Yes,  I  will  go  on  that.  Will  you  send  some  one 
with  me  on  board?" 

"  Certainly,  I  will  go  myself;  but  I  should  think  it  better 
to  wait.     Captain — " 

"What  were  you  going  to  say?" 

"  Only  that  Captain  Wilfer  charged  me  particularly  to  see 
you  comfortable,  and  I  thmk  he  would  scarcely  approve  of 
this,  if  he  knew  it." 

"  He  has  nothing  to  do  with  me  or  my  movements,  I  choose 
to  o-o,  and  it  does  not  at  all  matter  what  he  thinks  or  how  he 
feels  about  it." 

She  raised  her  face  haughtily,  and  turned  to  the  door. 
Her  heart  was  not  the  strong,  ungrateful  thing  that  she  made 
it  appear  to  this  man,  who  was  looking  at  her  in  curious 
surprise ;  but  she  hoped  he  would  give  an  account  of  both 
her  words  and  manner,  and  that  it  would  serve  to  check  an  in- 
terest which  was  but  too  apparent. 

The  Ohio  Eiver  was  full  of  floating  ice,  which  had  been 
loosed  and  broken  up  by  the  rains  and  warm  sunshine  of  the 
few  days  previous.  Perched  upon  a  hard  berth  in  a  comfort- 
less state-room.  Miss  Harmon  lay  all  night  and  listened  to  the 
heavy  dashing  of  the  ice  against  the  boat,  and  the  jests,  laugh- 
ter, and  songs,  of  the  soldiers  in  the  cabin.  They  were  gay 
and  lio-ht-hearted  in  the  face  of  all  discomforts,  and  amused 
themselves  with  cards  till  nearly  dawn,  Httle  dreaming  that  a 
fair  young  woman  was  lying  within  sound  of  their  voices,  who 
would  gladly  have  exchanged  places  with  any  one  of  them,  in 
the  hope  that  a  friendly  ball  might  hurl  her  with  one  swift 
stroke  from  a  hfe  that  was  ahnost  too  oppressing  to  be  borne. 

At  daylight  she  was  out,  watchuig  for  the  first  ghmpse  of 
Paducah,  but  it  was  more  than  an  hour  ere  a  turn  in  the  river 
brought  her  in  sight  of  it.  In  the  morning  beams,  as  the 
smoke  curled  up  towards  the  clear  sky  and  the  quiet  of  early 


62        A  STORY  OF  THE  GREAT  REBELLION. 

day  brooded  over  It,  it  seemed  scarcely  possible  to  believe  that 
it  had  lately  been  the  scene  of  the  wildest  excitement,  when 
the  Federal  troops  took  possession  of  the  place.  One  of  the 
fairest  and  most  prosperous  of  southern  towns  its  position  was 
an  important  one,  almost  immediately  at  the  mouth  of  the 
Tennessee  Eiver,  and  rendering  access  from  it,  easy,  to  several 
important  points.  Its  citizens  were  bitterly  ultra  in  their 
southern  proclivities,  and  she  did  not  anticipate  a  pleasant  so- 
journ there ;  but  she  saw  before  her  a  field  of  labor  to  which 
her  steps  had  been  directed  as  most  needing  her;  and  forget- 
ting self  as  far  as  she  could,  the  advance  was  made  bravely. 
It  was  almost  a  defiant  feeling  with  which  she  first  set  her  foot 
upon  the  main  street  and  looked  up  at  the  windows  of  the  St. 
Francis  Hotel,  where  she  must  remain  a  while.  She  remem- 
bered as  she  walked  up  to  the  ladies'  entrance,  a  time  when 
she  had  gone  across  its  threshold  under  far  different  circum- 
stances ;  but  she  dared  not  think  of  that  now !  Choking  down 
the  sob  which  rose  in  her  throat,  she  lightly  mounted  the 
stairs,  passed  down  the  hall  to  the  parlor,  and  ringing  the 
bell,  asked  for  Mrs.  Noble.  That  lady  had  just  risen,  and 
sent  for  her  at  once  to  come  to  her  room.  The  servant  led 
her  back  the  length  of  the  same  hall  she  had  just  traversed, 
and  paused  before  a  door  at  the  farthest  end.  Astrea  looked 
at  the  number,  and  pressed  her  hand  over  her  heart  with  a 
spasm  of  pain. 

"The  same — the  same,"  she  murmured  under  her  breath, 
"Oh,  fate,  into  what  strange  paths  art  thou  leading  me!" 

In  response  to  the  servant's  tap  upon  the  door,  it  was  immedi- 
ately thrown  open,  and  Mrs.  Noble's  arms  clasped  her  warmly. 

"  O,  I  am  so  glad  you  have  come !  You  cannot  think  how 
much  you  are  needed.  I  have  not  had  one  moment's  time  to 
worry  since  the  Major  left  me.  My  hands  are  full,  and  I  have 
half  cried  my  eyes  out  in  seeing  the  misery  there  were  none 
to  relieve.  To  our  poor  boys,  your  face  will  be  welcome  as 
an  angel  of  mercy.  I  was  just  getting  ready  to  run  up  to 
the  hospital  when  you  sent  for  me," 


AMONG   THE   HOSPITALS    AT   PADUCAH.  63 

Mrs.  Noble  ran  on  breathlessly  while  leading  Miss  Hannon 
to  a  seat,  and  assisting  to  remove  her  wrappings.  She  did 
not  notice  how  Astrea's  eyes  wandered  roimd  the  room,  scan- 
nino-  various  articles  of  familiar  furniture,  now  soiled  and 
faded.  She  could  not  know  how  a  mental  inventory  was  tak- 
ing place,  and  the  lonely  woman  was  saying  within  herself, 
"  there  is  the  chair  he  sat  in, — the  same  sofa  he  lounged  upon. 
Before  that  window  we  stood  together  and  looked  out  upon 
the  shinino;  river.    Alas !  what  chang-es  have  come  since  then ! " 

Aloud,  she  said  in  calm  enquiry : 

"How  many  hospitals  have  you  found  here?" 

"Three.  They  are  the  churches  of  various  denominations 
which  our  Government  has  deemed  it  expedient  to  use,  as  we 
can  find  no  better  buildings  at  present.  From  this  window 
you  can  see  the  Presbyterian  Church  hospital,  only  a  little 
more  than  a  square  distant.  The  others  are  farther  away. 
There  being  three,  if  no  other  lady  comes  to  help  us,  we  shall 
have  to  take  one,  each,  and  give  a  day  to  the  other  alternately. 
"While  there  is  enough  to  keep  any  tliree  women  busy  in  eithei 
one  of  these  hospitals,  there  are  extreme  cases  in  all  that  must 
have  proper  and  prompt  attention." 

"You  propose  to  board  here?" 

"Yes,  and  you  will  remain  with  me,  won't  you?  The  Ma- 
jor said  that  he  should  feel  so  much  easier  about  me  if  you 
were  here  and  would  room  with  me.  If  you  will  only  stay,  I 
will  try  and  make  it  as  pleasant  as  I  can  for  you." 

Miss  Harmon  smiled.  She  knew  it  was  only  a  delicate  way 
of  pro"\4ding  a  temporary  home  for  herself,  but  she  did  not 
hesitate  to  accept  the  kindness  thus  offered.  It  was  pleasant  to 
think  that  she  was  not  forced  to  wander  forth  in  search  of  an 
abiding  place.  To  have  lived  alone  long  in  a  large  hotel,  even 
had  she  been  able  to  afford  the  expense,  would  have  been  out 
of  the  question.  Sharing  with  another  lightened  her  respon- 
sibility, and  at  the  same  time  furnished  her  with  a  sweet  com- 
panion. Already  she  had  began  to  grow  fond  of  Mrs.  Noble, 
in  her  simple  earnestness  and  warm  enthusiasm.    The  sad  acci- 


64  A   STORY   OF   THE   GREAT  REBELLION. 

dent  which  had  spread  such  a  gloom  over  the  lives  of  many  un- 
fortunate beings,  had  drawn  together  two  women,  young,  fair, 
sincere  and  energetic.  Each  recognized  in  the  other  tender- 
ness, purity  and  power,  and  at  once  felt  that  influence  which 
was  destined  to  ripen  into  a  friendship  earnest  and  lasting. 

"You  have  not  promised  that  you  will  remain  with  me," 
remarked  Mrs.  Noble,  as  she  went  on  with  the  completion  of 
her  toilette. 

"  I  will  promise,  if  that  is  what  you  wish.  It  will  be  de- 
lightful to  be  permitted  to  share  your  home  for  the  time  being. 
Only  I  must  have  one  condition  attached  to  my  acceptance. 
Whenever  I  become  troublesome,  in  your  way,  or  disagreeable, 
turn  me  out  without  hesitation.  I  will  not  allow  myself  to 
discommode  you  in  any  way  whatever,  if  I  know  it." 

"Very  well;  I  accept  the  condition.  You  will  want  to 
bathe  your  face  and  brush  your  hair;  then  I  presume  you 
would  not  object  to  breakfast." 

"Not  very  obstinately.  To  teU  the  truth,  I  feel  rather  faint 
with  need  of  it.  Having  had  nothing  since  noon  yesterday, 
I  have  just  commenced  to  realize  that  people  must  attend  to 
physical  demands  if  they  hope  to  feel  either  well  or  cheerful." 

Putting  aside  her  hat  and  gloves,  she  let  fall  about  her  the 
long,  heavy  waves  of  golden  brown  hair  which  almost  enveloped 
her  person.  Mrs.  Noble  cried  out  in  delighted  admiration,  and 
gathered  the  soft  masses  in  her  slender  fingers  caressingly. 

"  O,  how  beautiful.  I  passionately  love  fine  hair.  It  al- 
ways seems  to  me  the  lovliest  feature  man  or  woman  can 
possess.  With  no  other  charm  than  this,  you  would  be  lovely 
in  my  eyes.  But  it  so  happens  that  you  are  more  generously 
endowed,  and  I  have  lost  my  heart  completely,  as  I  do  with 
all  beautiftil  things,  animate  or  inanimate.  Do  not  smile  that 
way,  or  I  shall  feel  as  if  you  pitied  me  for  my  weakness." 

"  Nay,  the  love  of  the  beautiful  which  has  been  given  us,  is 
rather  a  virtue  than  a  weakness.  Through  it  we  are  led  to 
iill  good  and  noble  things.  It  is  beauty  of  principle  and  char- 
acter which  wins  honor  and  esteem;    and  the  beauty  which 


TURNING  FROM  THE  PAST  TO  THE  PRESENT.     65 

pleases  the  eye,  not  only  makes  us  happier,  but  naturally 
causes  us  to  trace  beauty  to  its  original  source.  I  love  it,  too, 
and  I  am  grateful  that  God  has  endowed  me  with  the  powers 
of  appreciation  which  I  possess." 

"Are  you  not  grateful  that  he  has  endowed  you  with 
beauty's  self?     You  cannot  but  know  that  you  are  beautiful." 

"  Once  I  was  grateful,  for  it  made  me  happy.  Now  it  does 
not  give  me  pleasure,  and  I  cannot  be  thankful.  On  the  con- 
trary, it  makes  me  feel  uneasy  and  fearful.  I  must  guard  every 
word,  tone  and  look,  as  never  a  prisoner  of  state  was  guarded, 
lest  I  do  or  say  something  that  will  leave  me  a  prey  to  self- 
reproaches  and  regret.  Beauty  of  person  is  sometimes  a  curse. 
"Were  I  as  plain  as  many  whom  I  envy,  I  could  pass  quietly  and 
unnoticed  wheresoever  it  pleased  me.     As  it  is,  I  cannot." 

"  You  are  not  vain,  at  least,"  answered  Mrs.  Noble,  in  ad- 
miration of  Miss  Harmon's  simple  candor.  "  And  your  prin- 
ciples will  save  you  from  the  consequences  of  a  beautiful  face. 
You  have  the  strength  to  carry  out  your  own  will,  and  if  you 
once  get  in  the  way  of  considering  tilings  in  the  light  you  ex- 
pressed but  now,  I  do  not  see  what  you  have  to  fear.  Yet 
why  should  you  guard  yourself.  Perhaps  this  sweet  face,  aided 
by  your  own  true  womanliness,  may  win  for  you  one  worthy, 
even,  of  your  heart.     It  is  not  impossible  nor  improbable." 

Astrea  Harmon  faced  her  suddenly,  her  features  set,  almost 
rigid  with  the  strain  of  self-control. 

"If  you  could  know  what  you  are  saying,  I  am  sure  you 
would  never  again  repeat  what  has  escaped  you.  It  can  never 
be,  Mrs.  Xoble.  I  cannot  win,  or  be  won.  Let  this  pass  now 
and  forever.  Perhaps  at  some  other  time  you  may  know,  but 
not  at  present.  Now  our  duties  are  before  us ;  let  us  perform 
them,  and  leave  the  past  to  bury  itself.  It  has  not  been  a 
happy  past  for  me,  and  I  would  flee  from  it.  It  may  be  that 
it  has  robbed  my  future  of  all  promise  or  hope ;  but  if  so,  I 
will  try  to  bear  it  to  the  end,  patiently." 

Then  silence  fell  between  the  two,  and  neither  spoke  again 
until  Astrea  announced  herself  ready  for  breakfast. 
5 


66  A   STOEY   OF   THE    GEEAT   EEBELLIOX. 

Very  few  people  were  in  the  dining-room  when  they  en- 
tered. A  few  moments  after  they  were  seated,  a  lady  came 
in  with  two  children,  and  languidly  took  a  place  at  one  of  the 
tables  but  a  short  distance  from  our  friends.  All  her  move- 
ments were  slow  and  deliberate,  conveying  at  once  the  im- 
pression of  a  very  indolent,  but  very  obstinate  nature.  Turn- 
ing her  blue  eyes  upon  the  quiet  little  party,  around  wliich 
the  colored  waiters  gathered  with  alacrity  to  take  orders,  she 
stared  them  in  the  face  scornfully,  curling  her  pretty  hp  in 
utter  defiance  of  common  politeness. 

"Do  you  know  that  lady?"  asked  Astrea,  quietly,  while 
her  dark  eyes  shone  with  a  dangerously  angry  hght  beneath 
the  lashes  purposely  drooped  over  them. 

"No  lady,  I  should  say,  to  judge  by  appearances.  I  believe 
she  is  the  wife  of  the  proprietor.  She  is  the  heroine  of  a  very 
pretty  little  romance — is  quite  celebrated  for  her  independence 
of  action !  Just  before  the  Federalists  drove  the  Confederates 
from  this  place,  Beauregard  was  riding  through  the  streets, 
when  she  rushed  out,  seized  his  hand,  and  drawing  him  down 
as  far  as  she  could,  threw  her  arms  about  his  neck,  and  gave 
him  her  blessing  in  the  shape  of  a  kiss !  I  cannot  say  how  her 
young  husband  liked  this  proof  of  admiration  for  another  in  the 
main  street ;  but  I  suppose  he  imagined  it  merely  an  exhibition 
of  feehng  produced  by  intense  patriotism,  and  so  forgave  it." 

Astrea  laughed,  a  low,  sweet  laugh. 

"  Let  her  do  her  worst  now.  At  first  I  was  disposed  to 
feel  insulted  and  angry  at  the  stare  she  inflicted  upon  us. 
But  I  should  feel  ashamed  to  resent  anything  from  one  who 
can  so  far  forget  what  belongs  to  true,  modest  womanhood." 

"She  has  behaved  very  rudely  to  me  since  I  have  been 
here.  Yesterday  as  I  happened  to  pass  her  in  the  hall,  she 
gathered  aside  her  skirts  and  swept  by  me  with  the  scorn  of 
an  insulted  queen.  I  did  not  mind  it,  however.  Since  we 
have  possession  of  the  place,  and  the  power  all  in  our  own 
hands  we  can  afford  to  be  magnanimous." 

The  words  were  scarcely  uttered,  ere  something  whizzed 


SOUTHERN   BLOOD   AT   BOILING    HEAT.  67 

by  Mrs.  Xoble's  ear  and  struck  the  wall  behind  her.  One 
o-lance  showed  the  person  of  whom  they  had  been  speakhig, 
standing  face  to  face  with  them,  her  lovely  features  marred 
with  intense  passion.  A  fork  quivering  in  the  wall,  explained 
the  expression  she  had  chosen  to  give  her  wrath.  For  one 
moment  she  gave  vent  to  a  perfect  torrent  of  vehement  abuse, 
then  drew  her  children  from  the  room.  The  servants  seemed 
amused  at  the  scene,  but  dared  not  say  a  word.  The  anger 
of  their  mistress  seemed  to  afford  them  infinite  delight  since 
they  understood  its  cause. 

"  Fortunately  she  did  not  strike  you,"  said  Miss  Harmon 
with  a  deep  breath  of  relief,  "  what  a  termagant  she  must  be ! 
J  tremble  to  think  of  the  injury  she  might  have  inflicted." 

Mrs.  Noble  only  laughed. 

"  I  am  afi-aid  I  deserved  it,  for  I  spoke  loud  enough  for  her  to 
hear  me,  purposely.  It  was  neither  right  or  generous  to  retali- 
ate upon  her  in  such  a  manner.  All  my  life,  I  have  made  it  a 
rule  never  to  retaliate,  till  now,  and  this  shall  be  a  lesson  to  me." 

"I  am  strongly  tempted  to  report  her.  A  woman  who 
would  do  as  she  has  just  done,  would  hesitate  at  no  step  which 
would  inflict  an  injury  on  us  or  our  cause.  TVe  are  not  safe 
under  the  same  roof.  Of  course  I  am  not  afraid  of  her,  but 
such  a  course  as  this  carried  out  openly,  is  intolerable." 

"  Let  her  alone ;  she  will  not  dare  to  do  anything  more  rash 
right  here  in  the  face  of  our  power.  She  is  not  so  far  dis- 
gusted with  life  as  to  wish  to  part  with  it.  A  little  storm  like 
this,  is  nothing  to  be  wondered  at  occasionally.  Southern 
blood  is  hot,  and  when  forced  to  boil  in  silence  for  a  time,  it 
is  its  nature  to  run  over  sometimes.  I  dare  say  she  will  be 
all  the  better  after  this,  for  the  Httle  thunder-gust  with  which 
she  has  honored  us." 

"  It  is  to  be  hoped  she  may ;  and  if  not,  she  may  shortly 
find  herself  in  a  less  agreeable  position  than  the  one  she  noAv 
occupies." 

It  is  probable  this  last  implied  threat  was  repeated  to  her, 
for  when  the  ladies  encountered  her  near  the  door  in  going  out 


68  A   STORY   OF   THE    GEEAT   REBELLION. 

an  hour  later,  though  she  did  not  seem  to  notice  them,  her 
manner  was  quiet  and  lady-like. 

" '  Thus  conscience  doth  make  cowards  of  us  all,' "  laughed 
Mrs.  Noble  as  they  turned  up  the  street  to  the  hospital. 
"Her  ladyship  has  taken  the  alarm.  Do  you  know  I  think 
yon  ought  to  have  been  a  man.  Miss  Harmon?  You  would 
have  made  such  a  splendid  commander.  One  glance  of  those 
black  eyes — one  tone  of  that  determined  voice,  would  be 
enough  to  bend  an  army  to  your  will." 

"Nonsense.  Do  not  begin  thus  early  to  shake  my  confi- 
dence in  you  by  exaggeration  and  fulsome  flattery.  I  warn 
you  that  I  am  as  you  but  a  little  while  ago  declared — free 
from  vanity ;  and  you  may  find  me  over  nice  in  my  criticisms. 
Sometimes  I  am  betrayed  by  my  impulses  into  being  very  se- 
vere." 

"  O,  well,  he  severe ;  I  shall  not  mind  it.  You  are  only  a 
woman,  and  no  larger  than  I  am.  As  you  have  the  right  to 
speak,  so  have  T,  and  it  is  as  well  to  express  as  to  think  what  I 
have  just  said,"  returned  Mrs.  Noble,  lightly. 

"  But  you  do  not  think  that.  You  have  exaggerated  large- 
ly. Besides  I  am  not  sure  but  I  shall  quarrel  with  you  in  re- 
gard to  the  expression  of  our  thoughts.  We  think  and  feel 
many  things  that  it  would  not  only  be  unwise,  and  unkind, 
but  sheer  folly  and  madness  to  express." 

"There!  I  own  myself  vanquished  at  the  first  onset.  It 
ivould  be  madness,  and  I  do  not  want  you  to  believe  it  my 
habit.  Usually  I  am  quite  discreet.  Verily  I  do  believe  that 
it  is  your  coming  which  has  put  me  into  such  good  spirits.  I 
feel  like  taking  everything  gaily,  lightly.  Pardon  me  if  I 
seem  too  light  under  the  circumstances." 

Miss  Harmon  looked  into  the  dancing  brown  eyes — at  the 
full  mouth,  wreathed  in  smiles,  and  her  own  face  relaxed,  i\ 
lovely  light  dawning  upon  it.  Involuntarily  she  shpped  hei 
arm  through  Mrs.  Noble's,  and  drew  it  close  to  her  side. 
Whatever  her  faults  might  be,  it  was  easy  to  see  that  hei 
nature  was  as  her  name — noble. 


CHAPTER    VI. 

HOSPITAL   LIFE    AT   PADUCAH. 

Time  passed  a  way  rapidly,  and  the  labors  of  the  two  ladies 
were  earnest  and  untiring.  And  it  was  during  those  memora- 
ble weeks  at  Paducah,  the  character  of  our  heroine  passed 
through  the  furnace  of  hard,  practical  tests,  and  came  out  pure 
gold.  She  shrank  from  nothing,  and  never  ceased  in  'her  efforts 
to  bring  relief.  The  moi*e  delicate  sharer  of  her  labors,  would 
watch  her  in  wonder,  as  she  went  from  berth  to  berth,  cheer- 
ful, smiling  and  ever  ready  to  humor  the  whims  of  the  most 
capricious  of  her  charges.  No  complaints  ever  escaped  her 
lips,  though  too  often  the  pale  face  and  dark  eye  testified  to' 
the  utter  weariness  of  the  overtaxed  frame. 

In  the  kitchen  she  had  defied  the  German  cook  who  had 
crowned  himself  king  with  his  immense  paper  cap,  and  reigned 
right  regally  in  the  face  of  his  black  scowling  brows  and  broken 
mutterings.  Xo  fear  of  spoiling  her  delicate  fingers  withheld 
her  from  making  toast,  or  preparing  a  cup  of  tea  for  the  long- 
ing invalid  who  waited  and  watched  her  comino-  with  child-like 
impatience.  And  when  it  was  done,  she  would  sit  down  upon 
the  berth  and  taking  the  weak,  helpless  head  of  the  soldier 
upon  her  arm,  convey  the  refreshment  to  his  lips  as  a  mother 
would  feed  her  child.  Nearly  every  eye  watched  for  her  com- 
ing in  the  early  morning ;  and  faces  that  could  smile,  always 
smiled  her  a  welcome.  "When  she  left  the  hospital  at  noon 
and  night,  regrets,  coupled  with  blessings,  followed  her.  Peo- 
ple anaccustomed  to  such  duties,  can  have  no  conception  of 


70  A   STORY   OF   THE   GREAT  REBELLION. 

what  this  -woman  endured.  The  long  days  when  she  took  no 
rest,  nor  even  allowed  herself  to  wander  a  step  from  her  chosen 
path.  Out  of  chaos  she  had  brought  order ;  and  through  that 
order,  preserved  the  lives  which  were  the  sole  lights  of  many 
homes.  Her  daily  routine  was  so  systematic,  that  she  was 
enabled  to  do  much  good.  First  on  coming  in  the  morning 
she  bathed  the  faces  and  brushed  the  hair  of  those  who  were 
unable  to  help  themselves ;  saw  that  they  had  their  breakfast 
and  administered  their  medicines.  After  that,  of  warm,  sunny 
days,  the  floors  must  be  washed  nicely,  and  the  windows  set 
open  to  keep  the  air  pure;  the  berths  must  be  changed  and 
the  patients  kept  neat.  It  was  one  of  her  theories  that  no 
sick  person  could  recover  without  pure,  fresh  air  and  surround- 
ings, and  she  persisted  in  her  course  in  spite  of  the  remon- 
strances of  the  steward,  who  looked  upon  her  as  one  deranged. 
As  for  the  physician  in  attendance,  he  did  not  care,  and  let 
her  have  her  own  way  without  molestation.  Between  them 
there  was  natural  antao-onism.  His  indifference  to  the  welfare 
of  the  men  under  his  charge,  had  roused  her  indignation  to  an 
expressive  point,  and  she  had  taken  him  to  task  with  a  severity 
which  he  called  presumption,  but  which  was  no  more  than 
simple  justice.  No  man  has  a  right  to  trifle  with  human  life, 
and  least  of  all,  that  life  on  which  he  depends  for  his  own  free- 
dom and  protection.  While  her  heart  yearned  over  the  sol- 
diers who  had  left  fair  homes  and  loving  friends  for  the  battle- 
field,  sickness,  danger  and  death,  he  looked  on  them  carelessly, 
treating  them  as  little  better  than  animals  which  may  be  used 
for  the  advantage  of  man,  without  regard  to  the  feelings  which 
the  poor  brute  has  no  power  of  expressing.  He  could  hear 
moans  of  pain  and  cries  for  help  without  a  show  of  sympathy. 
He  could  look  upon  the  agonies  of  death  without  a  tear ;  and 
when  he  went  his  regular  rounds  to  prescribe  for  his  patients, 
the  sight  of  an  empty  berth  served  only  to  add  a  smirk  of  sat- 
isfaction to  his  homely  features,  which  said  plainly  as  words 
could  convey  "  One  less  to  be  bothered  with." 

"I  thank  God  from  my  heart,  that  all  men  are  not  like  you," 


ONE   OF   THE   MANY    WAE   VILLAINS.  71 

she  said  to  him  one  day  in  her  indignation.  A  cold  and  unfeeling 
remark  to  a  man  suffering  with  inflammatory  rheumatism,  had 
fallen  upon  her  ear,  and  she  could  not  refrain  from  resenting  it. 

"Why,  fair  lady?"  he  asked  with  a  half-sneex'ing  smile. 

"  If  they  were,  I  should  lose  my  faith  both  in  God  and  man. 
You  have  the  heart  of  a  stone  and  the  manners  of  a  heathen ! 
I  am  sorry  to  be  betrayed  into  any  unlady-like  vehemence,  but 
your  conduct  deserves  it.  Here  are  more  than  a  hundred  men, 
helpless  in  your  hands,  and  with  no  friends  to  aid  them  if  I 
do  not.  I  protest  against  your  cruel  neglect  and  indifference. 
It  is  my  intention  if  you  continue  in  this  way,  to  report  you 
and  have  another  surgeon  appointed  in  your  place.  I  owe  it 
to  these  poor  men  whom  I  consider  nothing  less  than  your 
victims." 

"  You  had  better  let  me  alone,  or  you  may  get  into  trouble," 
he  answered  rudely.  "  I  have  let  you  alone  because  I  saw  that 
your  presence  was  beneficial ;  but  as  soon  as  you  interfere  with 
me,  I  am  free  to  confess  that  I  will  not  tolerate  it.  Attend  to 
your  own  business,  and  we  shall  get  along  without  trouble." 

"  Xo,  Doctor  Grey,  we  shall  never  get  along  without  trouble 
while  I  can  find  reason  for  such  charges  as  I  intend  to  repeat. 
I  do  not  mind  the  pitiful  meanness  of  the  course  you  have 
taken  in  claiming  the  credit  of  all  well  doing  here,  and  boast- 
ing of  the  order,  cheerfulness  and  improvement  of  your  hos- 
pital and  patients.  That  is  more  of  a  personal  affair,  and  for 
myself  I  claim  nothing  but  the  consciousness  of  duty  well 
done.  But  I  do  object  to  the  indifference  you  manifest  in 
not  seeing  that  your  orders  are  carried  out.  You  order  a 
certain  diet  for  a.  patient,  and  never  know  if  he  has  had  it — 
whether  it  could  be  procured ;  and  if  not,  its  place  supplied 
with  something  else  that  will  not  injure  him.  I  have  been 
culpably  remiss  in  my  common  duty  to  humanity,  in  leaving 
unsaid  so  long,  what  I  am  saying  now,  because  I  disliked  to 
come  in  actual  contact  with  you.  Yet  if  another  could  see 
what  I  have  seen,  I  think  they  would  sustain  me  in  my  present 
action.    Go  look  at  the  tea  which  has  come  to  your  store-house 


72        A  STORY  OF  THE  GEEAT  EEBELLION. 

for  daily  use;  you  will  find  it  literally  baked  to  the  box — 
black  and  mouldy.  See  the  meat — one  Kving  mass  I — and  the 
coarse  brown  sugar  that  is  to  be  stirred  into  that  tea  with  iron 
spoons.  A  palatable  dish,  truly,  for  a  man  worn  to  the  verge 
of  the  grave  by  fever,  and  who  requires  the  best  of  nursing 
and  the  most  delicate,  nutritious  food  to  win  him  back  to  life. 
When  I  first  came  here  the  provision  made  was  even  worse 
than  now,  for  the  bread  was  coarse,  brown  loaves,  toasted  at 
morning  into  a  black,  bitter  crisp.  Fried  bacon,  and  com 
bread,  made  with  water  and  a  little  salt,  half-baked  and  dis- 
gusting, to  vary  the  diet !  I  could  not  feed  a  dog  on  such  food 
without  a  sting  of  conscience  that  would  forever  cure  me  of  the 
cruelty.  Yet  you  let  it  go  on  from  day  to  day,  and  with  all 
my  most  strenuous  efforts,  I  cannot  remedy  the  evil  alone." 

"What  can  I  do?  If  the  Quartermaster's  department  fur^ 
nishes  no  better  rations,  we  cannot  draw  them.  Your  com. 
plaint  is  needless,  I  think." 

"No;  if  Government  furnishes  nothing  better,  you  can  re- 
fuse to  draw  it,  and  draw  the  equivalent  in  money  instead. 
With  that  money,  if  you  cared  for  the  lives  of  these  men,  you 
could  buy  palatable  food  in  the  country — fowls,  butter,  milk 
and  eggs.  These  luxuries  never  come  into  the  building  ex- 
cept in  small  quantities — not  half  enough  for  the  most  re- 
duced, yet  they  might  easily  be  procured." 

"You  had  better  procure  them,  then." 

"  I  will,  if  you  will  draw  the  money  and  place  it  at  my  dis- 
posal." 

"  How  am  I  to  know  that  you  would  use  it  for  the  pm'pose 
you  claim?" 

"I  am  not  at  all  surprised  at  your  question  since  you  must 
judge  the  principles  of  others  by  your  own.  Yet  if  you  are 
fearfiil,  I  am  not  unwilling  to  account  for  the  use  of  the  funds 
you  place  in  my  hands.  The  purchaser  can  take  receipts  for 
everything  he  buys,  and  thus  show  the  use  which  has  been 
made  of  it.  All  I  wish,  or  care  for,  is  to  see  the  men  properly 
provided  with  not  only  delicacies,  but  the  necessaries  of  life." 


CHECKED   IN   HIS   VILLAINOUS   PRACTICES.  »o 

"I  cannot  believe  the  need  is  so  extreme  as  you  represent." 

"  That  doubt  confirms  my  charge  of  unpardonable  careless- 
ness. If  you  had  given  the  matter  any  attention,  you  Avould 
liave  known  that  it  is  even  worse  than  I  have  stated.  Come 
and  look  at  just  what  has  been  brought  here  to-day.  It  is  a 
sample  of  the  provisions  for  the  last  two  weeks — nay,  even 
longer  for  it  was  so  before  I  came.  Men  have  actually  starved 
to  death  right  under  your  hands,  and  you  never  heeded  it." 

"That  is  a  strong  assertion." 

"True,  nevertheless.  If  you  do  not  give  a  man  fo«>d  that 
he  can  eat,  he  will  of  course  die  in  the  course  of  time.  Dis- 
ease may  make  his  death  more  rapid,  and  you  will  say  he 
died  of  that  disease.  But  I  know  better  now,  and  I  will  not 
lono-er  see  this  o;o  on  without  an  effort  to  chan";e  the  tide  of 
destruction." 

*'  As  you  will,  I  will  see  what  can  be  done  at  tlic  Quarter- 
master's. Don't  make  any  more  fuss  about  it.  I  hate  fussy 
women." 

Miss  Harmon's  Up  curled ;  she  felt  humiliated  to  have  been 
forced  to  stoop  to  a  passage  at  arms  with  a  man  so  coarse  and 
heartless.  But  she  had  excited  his  fears,  and  her  only  hope 
had  lain  in  that.  With  a  cowardly  dread  of  dismissal  from 
the  service,  seeing  the  power  she  had  over  him,  he  concluded 
it  to  be  the  best  policy  to  yield,  though  it  galled  him  to  have 
a  woman  command  his  actions  in  any  degree.  Her  charges 
had  not  been  made  without  a  confidence  in  her  ability  to  prove 
them,  and  in  proving  them  she  could  effect  his  ruin.  Doctor 
Grey  felt,  as  he  strode  through  the  deserted  streets  to  his  board- 
ing-house, that  he  had  been  outwitted,  and  the  knowledge  did 
not  at  all  serve  to  sweeten  his  temper. 

The  effort  was  made  and  succeeded.  The  money  was  draAvn 
and  sent  to  her ;  but  whenever  her  name  was  mentioned  by 
officers  or  citizens,  in  terms  of  admiration,  a  shrug  of  the 
shoulder,  an  expression  of  the  face,  or  a  subtle  insinuation  did 
its  work  of  revenge  by  exciting  curiosity,  suspicion  and  distrust. 
From  this  time  forth,  no  step  was  unwatched — no  action  on 


74        A  STOKY  OF  THE  GREAT  EEBELLIOX. 

which  comments  were  not  made,  and  construed  as  best  suited 
the  evil-minded  ones,  ever  ready  to  crush  and  trample  innocence 
under  foot.  When,  far  into  the  night,  her  lamp  burned  steadily, 
there  were  those  who  saw  and  reported  it,  making  it  a  matter 
for  speculation  and  gossip.  Sometimes  when  she  walked  upon 
the  street,  on  her  way  to  and  from  the  hospitals,  she  was  obliged 
to  notice  that  people  whom  she  had  known  and  spoken  to,  pur- 
posely avoided  her.  But  while  she  wondered,  this  did  not 
trouble  her.  "To  the  pure  aU  things  are  pure,"  and  she  had 
no  idea  of  the  evil  a  wicked  man  was  working  out  for  her. 

Mrs.  Noble  shared  this  ostracism  in  a  measure,  and  being 
entirely  unable  to  divine  the  cause,  was  Avorried  and  fretted  by 
it,  but  she  finally  set  it  down  as  the  work  of  their  fiery  little 
hostess,  and  gave  it  no  further  thought. 

"Whether  it  be  true  or  not,  I  Avill  think  so,"  she  said. 
"Who  else  would  try  to  injure  us?  If  she  can  wield  this 
influence,  however,  among  our  own  people,  their  good  opinion 
is  scarcely  worth  having.  We  will  do  that  which  we  know  to 
be  right,  and — '■  Honi  soit  qui  mal  y  pense.'' ^^ 

So  ended  the  subject  for  a  time.  At  the  close  of  the  third 
week  of  their  residence  in  Paducah,  Major  Noble  came  down 
the  Tennessee  River  on  furlough,  to  pay  them  a  visit.  One 
was  delighted  and  happy,  the  other  pleased  and  glad  to  see  him. 

The  same  day  of  his  arrival,  after  a  long  chat  with  the  ladies, 
he  went  out  and  remained  for  an  hour.  When  he  returned, 
he  looked  puzzled  and  disturbed. 

"What  is  it,  George?" 

The  quick  eyes  of  the  wife  at  once  detected  that  he  was 
troubled. 

"I  scarcely  know.     Where  is  Miss  Harmon?" 

"In  her  own  room,  I  suppose.  She  will  occupy  tlie  one 
next  to  ours  while  you  stay." 

"Do  you  think  her  entu*ely  honest,  dear?  I  mean  in  all  her 
dealings.  You  look  shocked  at  the  question,  but  let  me  explain. 
By  her  own  confession,  she  lost  everything  she  possessed  by  the 
boat  accident ;  and  for  her  transportation  here,  you  are  aAvare 


DOUBTS,  SURMISES   AND   SUSPICIONS.  75 

that  I  gave  her  a  pass.  (Jot  I  find  that  she  has  regularly  paid 
her  bills  in  the  hotel,  and  appears  to  have  plenty  of  money. 
By  a  mere  accident  I  learned  that  funds  had  been  placed  in 
her  hands  for  the  use  of  the  men  at  the  hospital,  and  I  feel 
deeply  troubled  about  It.     How  can  you  explain  the  matter?" 

"I  fear  I  cannot  explain  It,  George,  but  never  doubt  her. 
She  Is  as  true  as  steel,  and  an  angel  In  goodness,"  cried  the 
little  woman  warmly.  "  If  you  need  proofs,  look  here.  In  this 
drawer  Is  a  purse  where  she  keeps  all  the  money  that  Is  sent  to 
her,  and  here  are  copies  of  the  receipts  of  all  her  expenditures. 
I  have  seen  everything,  and  know  that  her  course  Is  honest  and 
irreproacliable.  O,  you  do  not  know  how  good  she  Is.  Many 
a  time,  when  I  am  too  weary  to  sit  up,  she  sits  here  writing 
letters  and  copying  receipts,  far  Into  the  night,  after  a  hard  day 
of  toil.  I  cannot  comprehend  how  she  endures  It,  but  she  does, 
and  it  has  become  such  a  custom  now,  I  cannot  sleep  unless  I 
see  her  first  at  her  little  table  with  all  her  writing  paraphernalia 
before  her.  Then  I  forget  everything  while  she  works  on.  It 
shames  me  to  remember  it,  but  Indeed  I  could  never  do  half  she 
does  and  Kvc,  though  I  work  just  as  earnestly  and  as  willingly." 

"You  leave  me  more  than  ever  puzzled.  Can  you  tell  me 
what  she  writes?" 

"Letters,  of  course,  as  I  said  before.  Sometimes  she  will 
bring  home  a  dozen  to  answer,  and  when  she  goes  out  in  the 
morning,  she  fills  her  little  bag  with  them  and  herself  drops 
them  Into  the  post-office.  May  it  not  be  possible  that  she 
has  friends  who  supply  her  wants?  She  receives  a  number 
of  letters  from  the  North.  It  pains  me  to  find  you  growing 
suspicious  under  the  very  first  thing  which  you  camiot  under- 
stand. Be  more  charitable ;  it  Is  so  unlike  you  to  be  otherwise. 
For  all  the  world  I  would  not  have  her  know  that  you  have 
asked  me  such  questions.     She  is  honor's  self-embodiment." 

"  God  grant  that  you  may  be  right.  I  do  not  willingly  dis- 
trust any  one,  least  of  all  a  lonely  woman,  among  strangers 
and  without  protection.  She  Is  such  a  strange,  strong,  beau- 
tiful creature,  one  cannot  help  observing  her  closely,  and  In- 


76  A   STORY   OF   THE   GREAT  REBELLION. 

dulging  In  much  of  speculation.  That  -woman  has  had  a  his- 
tory, or  I  am  greatly  mistaken ;  and  if  we  could  know  it,  it 
would  be  better  for  all,  perhaps.  I  confess  that  my  interest 
has  been  deepened  by  Captain  Wilfer's  growing  passion. 
Since  his  regiment  arrived  at  Pittsburo:  Landing  a  week  aero, 
he  has  fairly  haunted  me,  and  has  been  constantly  asking  ques- 
tions about  you.  I  knew  he  only  wanted  to  know  what  Miss 
Harmon  was  doing,  and  I  humored  the  poor  fellow  by  report- 
ing everything  you  wrote  to  me  concerning  her.  His  heart 
is  gone  fifty  fathoms  deep  in  love." 

"What  a  pity!" 

"  Why,  pray  ?  Is  there  anything  so  very  bad  in  a  young, 
unmarried  gentleman  falling  in  love  with  a  young,  unfettered 
lady?" 

"No,  but  she  said  something  to  me  the  day  she  came  that 
I  must  remember.  I  hinted  at  her  eventual  union  with  some 
brave  man,  and  she  said  quite  impressibly,  that  she  could 
neither  win  or  be  won.  From  her  manner,  I  gathered  that 
some  tie  binds  her — something  in  her  past  life  would  render 
it  dishonorable  In  her  to  accept  attentions  from  gentlemen  Avith 
a  view  to  marriage.     INIore  than  this,  I  do  not  know." 

"  Do  you  think  it  best  that  I  should  give  Wilfer  the  benefit 
of  your  surmises?" 

"Perhaps  it  would  be  wiser;  It  may  save  her  from  annoy- 
ance, and  both  from  pain." 

Here  the  conversation  ended,  for  the  object  of  their  discus- 
sion tapped  upon  the  door  for  admittance.  She  came  to  ask 
of  the  Major  some  information  with  regard  to  military  tactics, 
and  they  urged  her  to  remain  and  sing  for  them.  She  did  not 
refiise,  but  readily  took  up  Mi*s.  Noble's  companion,  the  guitar, 
and  began  to  play.  INIajor  Noble  regarded  her  attentively,  as 
she  sat  before  him,  with  her  pure  face  slightly  uplifted,  and 
her  dark  eyes  fixed  upon  the  wall.  There  was  a  change  in 
her  person.  The  sHght  form  had  grown  slighter,  and  the  red 
no  longer  played  under  the  transparent  skin  of  her  cheek.  An 
habitual  paleness  made  brow  and  cheek  and  neck  white  as  ala- 


LABORING  AND   WAITING.  77 

baster.  Dark  circles  were  under  tlie  eyes,  and  the  mouth 
looked  sadly  weary. 

"  She  is  killing  herself,"  he  said  in  silent  comment.  "  There 
is  lack  of  rest,  and  mental  disquiet  shadowed  upon  her  face. 
We  must  try  to  change  all  this." 

"You  are  threatened  with  a  battle  at  Pittsburg  Landing, 
are  you  not  ? "  she  asked  when  she  had  finished  a  song  and 
laid  the  instrument  aside. 

"  Yes ;  it  may  be  soon — it  may  not  be  for  weeks ;  but  I  am 
persuaded  that  we  shall  have  a  battle,  and  a  hard  one." 

"How  I  should  like  to  be  a  man,  and  to  take  a  part  in  it! " 
she  said,  her  eye  kindling. 

"I  told  you,  you  ought  to  be  one,"  laughed  Mrs.  Noble, 
"but  got  a  lecture  for  my  pains.  Are  you  not  already  doing 
your  part?     Why  long  for  more ? " 

"  Because  I  long  for  the  excitement  of  a  more  active  life." 

"  I  should  think  you  are  having  enough  of  that,  to  judge  by 
your  wasted  face  and  figure.  My  dear  ghl,  you  are  trying 
to  do  too  much." 

Astrea  shook  her  head. 

"  No,  Major  Noble ;  it  would  be  harder  work  to  remain  idle. 
I  want  to  be  busy,  that  I  may  forget,  sometimes,  to  long  for 
what  I  cannot  hope  to  attain.  Perhaps  the  time  may  come 
when  it  will  be  different." 

"  Is  there  anything  in  which  I  can  help  you.  I  am  at  your 
command  at  all  times." 

"  Thank  you,  but  not  yet.  Perhaps,  some  day,  but  not  now. 
Time  is  not  ripe  for  action.  I  appreciate  your  kindness,  and 
when  the  hour  comes  in  which  you  can  serve  me,  I  will  come 
to  you  gladly.     Until  then,  let  me  go  on  in  my  present  path." 

"  Without  questioning,  I  suppose  ?  "  he  remarked,  smilingly. 
He  would  not  show  her  how  eagerly  he  longed  to  make  her 
speak  more  of  herself. 

"Yes,  if  you  can  be  so  kind.  It  may  be  cowardly,  but  I 
confess  to  a  shrinking  from  the  pain  questions  would  cause  me, 
and  I  need  all  my  strength." 


78  A   STORY    or   THE   GREAT   REBELLIOI>. 

In  a  moment  she  looked  into  his  face  with  a  searching 
glance,  and  added; 

"I  know  I  have  not  the  slightest  claim  upon  your  confidence 
without  a  return  of  that  sentiment ;  yet  I  would  fain  beg  you 
to  have  faith  in  me,  Major  Noble.  Let  my  actions  regidate 
your  treatment  of  me,  and  if  I  prove  worthy  of  distrust,  then 
distrust  me.  On  the  other  hand,  if  I  prove  worthy  of  your 
confidence  and  esteem,  give  them  to  me  as  generously  as  you 
can.     I  have  not  much  to  comfort  me  in  this  world." 

The  lady's  lips  trembled,  and  her  hearers  were  touched  in- 
expressibly by  her  sad  appeal  for  sympathy.  It  was  not  like 
her  to  bend  toward  others  and  sue  for  a  sentiment  that  mijxht 
not  be  given  spontaneously.  Mrs.  Noble  better  appreciated 
the  humility  of  the  haughty  spirit,  and  assigned  the  cause  to 
the  affection  which  she  had  herself  inspired  in  Miss  Harmon's 
breast.  The  latter  was  so  o;rateful  for  the  love  and  confidence 
her  new  friend  had  bestowed  upon  her,  she  could  not  bear  to 
feel  that  the  husband  lacked  in  the  feeling,  though,  with  a 
woman's  penetration,  she  had  at  once  divined  his  discontent. 

"Will  you  allow  me  to  ask  you  just  one  question  and  not 
think  me  rude?"  he  asked  after  a  moment's  hesitation.  "It 
pertains  wholly  to  aifairs  here." 

"  Certamly." 

"How  is  it  that  I  find  your  board  bill  settled?  I  intended 
to  pay  it  for  you  when  I  settled  for  my  wife,  as  a  sort  of  rec- 
ompense for  your  companionship.  You  have  cheated  me  out 
of  the  pleasure  and  I  feel  disappointed." 

Astrea's  face  flushed  crimson — a  vivid,  painful  flush,  filling 
Mrs.  Noble's  heart  with  compassion ;  but  she  answered  readily : 

"  I  could  not  think  of  allowing  you  to  pay  me  for  being  the  re- 
cipient of  your  wife's  favors.  Major  Noble.  The  obligation  is  all 
apon  my  side.  You  know  me  poor,  and  cannot  understand  how 
I  have  managed  to  defray  my  expenses ;  and  if  I  refuse  to  ex- 
plain, I  suppose  you  will  think  that  you  have  a  right  to  question 
my  integrity.  If  that  is  the  case,  ask  your  wife  what  she  knows 
of  the  disposition  I  make  of  that  which  is  intrusted  to  me." 


AN   UNEXPECTED   ARRIVAL.  79 

"I  have  done  that  already." 

"Then  you  did  doubt  my  honor,"  she  said  quickly,  a  proud 
look  in  her  eyes. 

"  Xo,  ]\Iiss  Harmon,  I  simply  could  not  understand  it.  You 
lost  all  you  possessed  by  the  burning  of  the  Medora,  and  I 
know  that  you  refused  the  purse  made  up  for  you.  What 
am  I  to  conclude  ?  " 

"This:  that  I  have  an  honorable  and  legitimate  means  of 
supplying  my  small  wants,  and  if  you  cannot  take  my  word, 
painful  as  it  will  be  to  me,  I  must  withdraw  from  the  protec- 
tion of  one  who  will  not  accord  me  this  much  of  confidence 
without  proof  positive." 

"  I  must  believe  you,  Miss  Harmon,  and  humbly  crave  your 
pardon  for  wounding  your  feelings.  It  was  farthest  from  my 
wish  either  to  wound  or  offend  you." 

"Let  it  pass,  I  am  assured  of  you  good  intentions,  even 
while  I  am  so  proud  that  I  am  forced  to  resent  anything  like 
interference  in  my  private  affairs."  The  haughty  expression 
melted  from  her  face  into  a  gentle  smile  as  she  held  out  her 
hand,  and  their  mutual  compact  sealed  for  future  trust  and 
friendliness,  the  matter  dropped.  After  this  Major  Noble  saw 
little  of  our  heroine  during  his  stay.  A  number  of  sick  and 
wounded  had  been  brought  down  from  Donelson,  which  re- 
quired an  extra  demand  upon  her  time.  Before  he  rose  in  the 
morning,  she  had  breakfasted  hastily  and  was  away.  Her  din- 
ner hour  varied  according  to  circumstances,  and  she  did  not 
take  tea  until  everybody  else  had  finished,  and  consequently 
ordered  it  to  her  own  room.  By  this  means,  if  he  had  felt 
disposed  to  trespass  further  upon  her  patience  with  questions, 
he  had  no  opportunities  for  doing  so,  ere  his  furlough  expired. 

"Give  Captain  Wilfer  to  understand  the  state  of  affairs," 
Mrs.  Noble  said  to  him  at  parting,  "  I  have  thought  of  it  all, 
and  believe  it  the  kindest  to  both,  to  make  him  feel  that  he 
can  have  no  hope  of  winning  her."  But  the  lady's  good  inten- 
tions were  frustrated,  for  Major  Xoble  had  not  been  gone  an 
hour,  before  Captain  Wilfer  made  his  appearance  in  Paducah. 


CHAPTER    VII. 

DEFYmG  A  HOSPITAL  KNAVE— A  LITTLE  PROGRESS  IN 
LOVE   MATTERS. 

"I  HAVE  good  news  for  you,  IMiss  Harmon,"  said  Doctor 
Grey  that  evening  as  he  came  in  to  make  his  usual  visit. 
"And  having  good  news  to  relate,  I  should  like  to  have  you 
reward  me  by  telling  me  what,  of  aU  things  you  can  imagine, 
would  at  this  moment  please  you  most." 

"  To  hear  that  you  were  dismissed  the  service,"  she  answered 
curtly. 

A  general  laugh  responded,  for  a  dozen  men  had  heard  his 
request  and  her  answer.     He  scowled,  but  said  dryly: 

"  Well,  I  cannot  quite  gratify  you  in  that  way,  but  the  next 
thing  to  it  will  be  to  leave,  I  suppose,  and  I  expect  to  do  that 
to-morrow.  To-day's  mail  has  brought  me  a  Colonel's  com- 
mission from  the  War  Department,  and  I  am  to  repair  at  once 
to  the  field  for  active  duty." 

"Then  you  will  have  an  opportunity  for  pursuing  your 
favorite  employment  in  a  more  legitimate  manner." 

"In  what  particular  do  you  mean?" 

"Killinor  men." 

"By  Jove!  woman,  you  have  a  tongue  like  an  asp,"  he 
blurted  out  hotly.  "I  pity  the  man  who  is  to  take  my  place, 
for  I  believe  in  my  heart  that  you  have  a  spite  against  the 
whole  profession." 

"  There  you  are  mistaken.  For  the  faculty  I  have  the  high- 
est honor  and  esteem.     Ko  class  of  men  does  so  much  good, 


CONTEMPT,  XOT   HATRED.  81 

or  claims  warmer  appreciation;   I  only  object  to  a  few  un- 
scrupulous exceptions." 

He  held  a  memorandum  in  his  hand,  on  which  he  was  pen- 
cilino;  orders  for  the  night. 

"  I  would  like  to  know  why  you  hate  me  so,"  he  said,  with- 
out looking  up  from  his  occupation. 

"  I  do  not  hate  you ;  I  despise  you  too  thoroughly  for  that. 
People  who  excite  contempt,  cannot  go  deep  enough  for  hatred. 
It  takes  a  nobler  caste  of  humanity  to  rouse  so  grand  a  senti- 
ment." 

Ho  winced  visibly,  but  laughed  as  if  he  wished  to  be  con- 
sidered taking  what  she  said  as  a  jest. 
"You  call  hatred  a  grand  sentiment?" 
"  Yes.     The  grandest  of  all  sentiments  is  love — the  next  its 
opposite — hate." 

"I'm  sure — where  are  you  going?" 
"  About  my  duties." 

"Why?  Cannot  you  spare  me  one  moment  on  my  last 
evening  in  your  kingdom?" 

"  No.  I  feel  humiliated  already,  by  deigning  to  exchange 
words  with  you,"  and  she  was  gone,  busy  at  the  farthest  end 
of  the  room  in  a  moment.  For  a  while  she  kept  out  of  his 
reach,  but  In  leaving  the  building,  he  determinedly  followed 
her,  and  with  the  venom  of  a  small,  vindictive  nature,  o-ave 
utterance  to  a  threat. 

"  Doubtless  we  shall  meet  again  before  this  war  ends,  and 
if  so,  I  shall  hope  for  the  opportunity  to  repay  some  of  your 
favors.     Be  assured  that  I  shall  not  let  a  chance  pass  me." 

"  It  would  not  be  like  you  to  do  so,  and  I  do  not  expect  it. 
The  man  who  can  willfully  see  his  fellows  die,  without  thought 
or  care,  and  then  strive  to  cast  suspicion  upon  the  woman  who 
had  the  spirit  t(f  speak  in  their  behalf,  would  stop  at  nothing." 
He  started,  and  her  full,  dark  eye,  fixed  upon  his,  made  him 
recoil.  "  You  are  generous  in  your  accusations,  at  least,"  he 
said,  recovering  himself. 

"I  could  be  more  generous,  even,  for  I  have  traced,  unin- 

a 


82  A   STORY   OF   THE   GREAT  REBELLION. 

tentlonally,  more  than  one  attempt  to  do  me  injury,  to  its 
proper  source.  Do  not  think  your  actions  of  so  much  impor- 
tance as  to  believe  I  care  for  them  in  the  least,  when  they  are 
intended  to  affect  me.  I  mention  it  merely  to  show  you  that 
I  am  not  ignorant  of  your  movements,  and  that  will  explain 
my  prcfessed  contempt."  Without  another  word,  she  turned 
from  him  abruptly  and  hastened  to  the  kitchen.  He  slammed 
the  door  after  her  angrily,  and  strode  down  the  street.  It  was 
a  long  time  before  they  met  again,  and  then  it  was  under  far 
different  circumstances. 

When  Miss  Harmon  returned  to  the  hotel  awhUe  later,  she 
found  an  unexpected  visitor.  Mrs.  Noble  had  gone  in  to  tea, 
and  beside  her  sat  Captain  WUfer,  chatting  pleasantly.  As- 
trea  would  not  have  liked  to  own  the  sudden  flutterins;  of  her 
heart  as  her  eye  met  the  earnest  glance  he  bent  upon  her  in 
his  greeting.  She  was  compelled  to  face  him  at  table,  and 
bear  the  scrutiny  of  two  pairs  of  eyes,  consequently  the  need 
of  guarding  herself  was  imperative.  It  would  never  do  to 
show  surprise  or  embarrassment ;  so  she  sat  down,  and  with 
seeming  carelessness,  passed  the  compliments  of  the  season, 
asked  him  about  his  Icme  foot,  and  whether  he  was  ready  so 
soon  for  field  duty.  No  particular  interest  being  manifested 
in  aU  this,  he  looked  grave  and  dissatisfied,  for  he  had  hoped 
against  Mrs.  Noble's  assurance,  given  him  during  the  day,  that 
she  would  show  some  feeling  either  of  surprise,  pleasure  or 
annoyance.  Anything  would  have  been  preferable  to  such 
entire  coolness — such  perfect  ease  as  this.  Well  was  it  for 
her  that  he  could  not  feel  the  sick  sensation  in  her  heart — 
hear  the  burden  of  the  sigh  strangled  in  its  birth:  "more 
weary  struggling."  The  pain  it  cost  her  to  render  herself  so 
utterly  indifferent,  to  all  appearance,  had  for  the  first  time 
wakened  the  fear  that  she  might  care  for  him  more  than  she 
desired.     Only  misery  could  come  of  it.     What  could  she  do  ? 

The  three  formed  a  triangle,  and  kept  up  a  continuous 
stream  of  small  talk  for  five  minutes.  In  the  midst  of  it,  As- 
trea's  busy  brain  had  divined  a  plan  and  determined  to  carry 


LOVE   MAKING    STRANGE   UAVOC.  83 

it  out.  Tliat  plan  had  the  power  to  lift  the  weight  from  her 
heart  and  light  her  face  with  the  real  brightness  of  relief;  and 
as  her  spirits  rose,  her  admirer  became  more  and  more  misera- 
ble. Mrs.  Xoble  was  right.  His  hopes  were  indeed  vain! 
"What  a  foolish  thing  it  was,  to  come  here  and  place  himself 
under  the  spell  of  her  penetrating  power!  How  could  he 
listen  to  her  voice,  see  her  smile,  or  look  upon  the  beauty  of 
her  peerless  face  without  becoming  more  hopelessly  enslaved  ? 
Love  makes  strange  havoc  of  man's  reason,  sometimes,  and 
Harry  Wilfer  had  ceased  to  strive  with  himself  for  the  belief 
that  he  did  not  love  Astrea  Harmon — cold,  proud,  willful,  beau- 
tiful woman!  Was  she  not  tender,  and  loving,  and  kind  as 
well?     Oh,  why  could  she  not  be  all  this  for  Uni? 

He  was  a  stranger  to  her,  comparatively.  What  could  she 
know  of  his  position,  character  or  past  life  ?  How  could  she 
care  for  him  without  a  better  knowledge?  He  did  not  expect 
it,  so  he  reasoned,  but  he  had  hoped  for  a  little  show  of  in- 
terest, in  spite  of  the  repulses  she  had  given  him  during  their 
short  acquaintance.  Sometimes  the  very  strangeness  of 
events,  engenders  interests  that  are  not  imagined  or  acknowl- 
edged until  after  the  lapse  of  certain  time  for  reflection.  He 
had  dared  to  hope  this  ;  ii-:h:  be  the  case  with  Astrea  Har- 
mon, and  she  would  treat  him  more  kindly  in  a  second  meet- 
ing. Now  that  he  sat  with  her  fair,  still  face  before  him  in 
the  repose  of  a  brief  respite  from  talking,  he  wished  himself 
back  m  his  camp,  stretched  out  upon  his  blanket,  with  his  face 
upturned  to  the  stars.  They,  too,  were  cold  and  still  and  beau- 
tiful, but  they  were  steadfast,  and  as  much  his  as  another's. 
Nay,  they  were  more  his,  accordingly  as  he  loved  them!  and 
their  companionship  never  left  such  sickening  sensations  of 
pain  and  disappointment  in  his  heart  as  he  now  felt.  She  had 
asked  how  long  he  expected  to  remain.  He  remembered  that, 
when  she  said  to  Mrs.  Noble  as  they  rose  from  the  table : 

"  I  suppose  you  can  spare  me  for  a  few  days,  can  you  not  ? 
To-morrow  I  must  go  to  Cincinnati." 
"  To  Cincinnati !     What  takes  you  there  ?  " 


84  A   STORY   OF   THE   GEEAT   EEBELLION. 

"  I  expect  a  boat  will,"  smiled  Miss  Harmon.  "  And  I  shall 
take  with  me  on  the  boat,  a  poor  boy  who  must  die  in  a  short 
time,  and  h3  wishes  to  go  to  his  mother.  She  has  been  an  in- 
valid for  years,  and  there  are  no  relations  beside.  These  are 
the  last  of  a  large  family,  and  it  would  be  hard  if  he  should 
die  and  be  buried  away  from  her." 

"When  did  you  make  this  decision?" 

"  This  evening.  He  has  moaned  so  bitterly  for  several  days 
I  have  had  a  ceaseless  heart-ache;  and  his  pleadings  to  go 
home  have  almost  set  me  wild.  There  is  no  other  to  trust 
him  with,  so  I  have  concluded  to  go  myself." 

"  And  you  go  to  avoid  me,"  thought  Captain  "Wilfer.  "  I 
wish  I  could  feel  as  cold  and  careless." 

The  ladies  invited  him  into  the  parlor,  and  Mrs.  Noble 
opened  the  piano.  Astrea  declined  to  sing  on  the  plea  of 
weariness,  but  she  talked  to  him  freely,  always  speaking  of 
other  things,  seldom  of  herself.  When  he  got  up  once  to  ex- 
amine a  painting  upon  the  wall,  she  voluntarily  became  more 
genial,  and  opened  a  conversation  upon  art  which  occupied 
them  for  some  time  very  pleasantly. 

"  You  admire  paintings  ? — but  I  fear  you  will  derive  little 
pleasure  from  the  contemplation  of  that  picture,"  she  remarked 
with  a  quiet  smile.  "  It  is  a  trial  to  see  copies  of  our  favorite 
works  of  art  thus  mutilate  the  idea  of  the  artist.  I  wonder 
how  Rembrandt  would  feel  to  see  this  burlesque  upon  one  of 
his  favorite  landscape  scenes  ?  There  never  has  been  a  shadow 
of  justice  done  to  the  wonderftil  power  he  possessed  of  blending 
and  contrasting  light  and  shade  in  the  copying  of  that  picture." 

"  Eembrandt  is  a  favorite  of  yours,  I  may  infer." 

"Indeed  he  is!  How  could  one  help  admiring  him?  There 
are  others  as  dear,  though  I  could  almost  worship  the  memory 
of  Raphael,  with  liis  exquisite  beauty  and  tenderness,  com- 
bined with  a  severe  dignity,  a  matchless  power  with  which 
none  could  vie.  Paul  Veronese,  in  his  way,  claims  as  strong 
a  feeling,  in  spite  of  his  inconsistencies.  I  always  smile  at  the 
daring  disregard  of  probabihties  manifested  in  liis  productions ; 


ABOUT   ART   AND   ARTISTS.  85 

but  his  works  enthrall  me,  nevertheless.  Then  Hogarth,  the 
eccentric,  comes  hi  for  his  share  of  regard.  I  like  the  truthful, 
willful  spirit,  which  dared  to  paint  life  from  its  striking  reali- 
ties, regardless  of  the  world  around  him.  To  those  who  look 
upon  life  as  a  very  good  and  pleasant  possession,  I  suppose 
his  satire  and  sarcasm  would  not  prove  at  all  improving  or  in- 
structive. They  would  consider  him  too  severe,  and  therefore 
condemn  him.  But  those  who  knoiv  life,  will  sympathize  with 
him  and  call  him  truthful  and  honest.  I  once  saw  in  Rome 
a  copy  of  his  '  Strolling  Actresses,'  which  amused  me  greatly. 
The  scene  is  a  great  barn,  turned  into  a  theatre.  The  party 
gathered  together  in  it  to  dress  for  the  performance,  Avas  never 
equalled  in  fancy  or  reahty.  '  The  Devil  to  pay  in  Heaven '  is 
the  play  they  are  about  to  exhibit,  and  it  is  said  the  object  of 
the  satirist  was  to  ridicule  those  artists  who  strove  to  oi-na- 
ment  the  parlors  and  halls  of  those  days  with  mobs  of  the 
heathen  divinities. 

"  The  dramatis  persotue  are  principally  ancient  deities  of  the 
first  order.  Jupiter,  Diana,  Apollo,  Flora,  Night,  Syren,  Au- 
rora and  Cupid,  figure  on  the  play-bills.  These  personages 
are  accompanied  by  two  eagles  and  a  ghost ;  two  dragons,  two 
kittens  and  an  aged  monkey.  Juno  sits  upon  an  old  wheel- 
barrow which  serves  her  for  a  triumphal  car,  and  with  one 
arm  uplifted  she  rehearses  her  part,  while  Xight  dressed  in  a 
starry  robe  mends  her  stockino;s !  The  Star  of  Evenins  risinsr 
over  the  head  of  Night,  is  a  burnished  tin  mould  used  in  bak- 
ing tarts.  A  young  gii-1  with  one  eye  and  a  dagger  fixed  in 
her  mantle  by  way  of  a  skewer,  represents  the  Tragic  INIuse. 
She  is  cutting  poor  pussy's  tail  to  obtain  blood  for  some  sol- 
emn purpose,  and  smiles  in  delight  as  it  drops  into  a  broken 
dish.  On  a  Grecian  Altar  lies  a  loaf  of  bread  and  a  tobacco 
pipe,  while  two  little  devils  are  quarreling  over  a  pot  of  ale, 
out  of  which  one  is  strivino^  to  drink. 

"  Diana  occupies  the  center  of  the  design.  The  inspiration 
of  her  part  comes  upon  her  while  she  is  dressing,  and  with 
her  hair  full  of  flowers  and  feathers,  and  one  foot  on  her  dis- 


86  A   STORY   OF   THE   GREAT  REBELLION. 

carded  crinoline,  she  rehearses  her  speech  with  extravagant 
enthusiasm.  While  the  others  are  quite  plain,  the  artist  has 
shown  his  capability  for  beautiful  creations  in  the  face  and 
form  of  Diana.  Flora  sits  at  her  toilet,  homely  and  awkward- 
A  wicker  basket  contains  her  regalia,  and  she  smooths  her  hair 
with  a  piece  of  candle,  looking  into  a  broken  looking-glass  the 
while.  Apollo  and  Cupid  are  trying  to  bring  down  a  pair  of 
hose  hung  out  to  dry  on  a  cloud ;  but  the  wings  of  Love  can- 
not raise  him,  and  he  is  obliged  to  use  a  ladder.  Aurora  sits 
on  the  ground  with  the  morning  star  in  her  hair.  She  is  in 
the  service  of  the  Syren  and  offers  Ganymede  a  glass  of  gin, 
which  he  swallows  in  the  hope  of  curing  his  aching  tooth. 
The  woman  who  personates  the  Bird  of  Jove,  is  feeding  her 
child;  a  regal  crown  holds  the  sauce  pan  which  contains  the 
milk,  and  tlie  little  creature,  fi'ightened,  cries  lustily.  A  mon- 
key in  one  corner  sports  a  long  cloak,  a  bag  wig  and  solitaire, 
while  he  amuses  himself  with  dipping  into  water  the  plumed 
helmet  of  Alexander  the  Great,  The  scene  is  comical  in  the 
extreme.  One  kitten  touches  an  old  lyre  with  evident  skill, 
while  the  other  rolls  an  imperial  orb ;  cups  and  balls  intimate 
the  sleight-of-hand  pursuits  of  the  company ;  and  as  a  moral, 
two  judges'  Avigs  and  an  empty  noose  are  near.  On  the  pulpit 
cushion  is  a  mitre  filled  with  tragedies  and  farces,  revealed  by 
the  light  of  a  dark  lantern.  Beside  them  a  portly  hen  has 
found  for  herself  and  brood,  a  roost,  on  a  set  of  unemployed 
waves,  manufactured  to  perform  the  part  of  a  storm  at  sea. 

"  Hogarth  was  foi'ty-eight  years  of  age  when  this  picture 
was  produced,  and  his  fame  established,  with  wealth  enough 
to  support  a  certain  style  of  living  easily.  Otherwise,  he 
might  have  failed  to  attain  what  his  work  was  now  bound  to 
furnish  him  with^  since  his  fellow  artists  accorded  him  praise 
with  such  jealous  reluctance." 

"  He  has  in  you,  at  least,  a  graphic  describer  of  his  excel- 
lencies," remarked  Captain  Wilfer.  "  But  was  he  not  a  bet- 
ter engraver  than  painter?" 

"I  think  not.     He  did  engrave  many  of  his  favorite  de- 


ABOUT   ART   AND   ARTISTS.  87 

signs,  unwilling  to  trust  tlicm  to  otliers;  but  as  a  painter 
I  like  him  best." 

"You  spoke  of  Raphael;  do  you  remember  the  disappoint- 
ment of  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  when  he  first  visited  the 
Vatican?" 

"  Ah,  yes ;  but  that  was  because  of  his  mability  to  appre- 
ciate the  great  master.  He  himself  acknoAvledged  that  he 
expected  to  find  beauties  superficial  and  alluring ;  or  rather, 
if  he  had  found  what  he  expected,  they  would  have  been  su- 
perficial. Afterwards,  like  many  another  who  had  failed  to 
see  the  grandeur  of  his  conceptions  at  first,  Reynolds  became 
one  of  the  most  devoted  worshipers  of  his  genius.  As  a 
man,  I  do  not  so  much  admire  Reynolds.  He  was  too  vain 
and  self-conceited ;  yet  his  appreciation  of  art  redeems  him. 
I  remember  being  very  much  charmed  with  descriptions  from 
his  private  diary  of  the  works  of  Titian,  Correggio  and  Paul 
Veronese." 

"  The  same  fault  extends  to  many  others  of  your  acknowl- 
edged favorites;  even  Hogarth  was  not  free  from  it." 

"  O,  you  mistake !  Hogarth  with  his  rough,  honest  ways, 
his  homely  face,  his  rude  manner,  his  hatred  of  vice  and  folly! 
The  vanity  of  human  nature  leads  us  to  express  our  weakness 
Vor  self  in  dress,  show  and  various  pretentious  ways.  To 
Hogarth  you  can  ascribe  none  of  these ;  for  he  was  culpably 
careless  in  his  appearance,  and  thought  so  little  of  people's 
opinion  as  not  only  to  go  where  he  pleased,  and  to  dress  as 
he  pleased,  but  to  satirize  them  mercilessly." 

"  Certainly,  you  have  vindicated  him  from  the  charo-e  of 
vanity,"  said  Mrs.  Noble,  who  had  been  an  interested  listener 
thus  far.  "  If  you  will  allow  so  humble  a  personage  as  my- 
self, however,  to  take  a  part  in  your  learned  discourse,  I  shall 
claim  the  liberty  of  defending  Reynolds.  Cunningham  does 
not  give  him  such  a  character  as  you  ascribe  to  him.  I  think 
you  must  have  some  of  your  favorite  Hogarth's  envy,  to  stim- 
ulate your  prejudice.  Hogarth  was  a  coarse,  rude  man,  while 
Reynolds  Avas  polished  and  refined.     It  puzzled  me  to  under- 


bb  A   STOEY   OF   THE    GEEAT   KEBELLION. 

stand  why  you  should  prefer  the  former  above  the  latter,  whe 
I  know  you  prize  refinement  and  cultivation  so  highly." 

"  Because  the  first  was  a  true  man  and  a  true  artist,  while 
the  other  was  cold,  selfish,  and  by  far  too  ungracious  with  his 
brother  artists  to  win  a  very  warm  degree  of  esteem  from  me. 
He  preferred  the  society  of  literary  men  to  his  brothers  in  art, 
and  was  careful  never  to  allow  any  professional  man  to  gain 
anything  from  him,  after  his  studies  in  Rome.  He  admired 
and  venerated  the  severe  dignity  and  exquisite  beauty  of  Mi- 
chael Angelo  and  Raphael ;  but  while  he  talked  of  the  '  grand 
style'  and  the  'great  masters,'  he  chose  a  style  for  himself 
altogether  different,  and  that  neither  divine  or  lofty.  I  admit 
skill,  by  which  he  acquired  wealth  and  fame,  but  who  was 
ever  the  better  for  it,  whom  he  might  have  benefited?  He 
remained  silent,  and  his  brother  artist  must  toil  on  without 
any  aid  from  his  hand.  A  truly  noble  nature  would  not  have 
proved  so  averse  to  imparting  something  of  his  superior 
knowledge  to  others.  On  the  contrary,  he  not  only  kept  his 
own  counsel,  but  attacked  others  bitterly ;  and  he  attacked  to 
injure,  that  he  might  himself  rise.  Hogarth  attacked  to  im- 
prove, and  he  gave  his  brethren  the  benefit  of  his  long  studies 
and  his  genius  by  writing  very  valuable  works  upon  art.  He 
represented  life ;  gave  an  image  of  man ;  exhibited  the  work- 
ings of  the  heart ;  recorded  the  good  and  evil  of  his  nature ; 
set  before  us  the  very  creatures  with  which  the  earth  is  peo- 
pled; shook  us  with  mirth;  saddened  us  with  reflection; 
melted  us  to  tears ;  pleased  us  with  skill  and  threw  over  us 
the  sj)eU  of  power.  All  this  proves  him  nature's  nobleman, 
in  spite  of  his  coarseness,  which  I  choose  to  call  honesty 
rather.  He  never,  like  Reynolds,  preached  one  thing  and 
practised  another ;  he  was  too  straightforward  for  that.  With 
every  conceivable  difficulty  my  hero  was  forced  to  contend, 
but,  dapper  little  man  that  he  was,  he  stood  up  sturdily  with  a 
courage  and  a  spirit  that  became  grand;  while  enemies  were 
all  around  him,  ready  to  find  fault  and  pick  him  to  pieces. 
Fortune  was  more  gracious  to  your  favorite ;  he  was  gifted 


A   NOBLE   AMBITION.  89 

with  fine  aiipearance,  rejoiced  in  the  circumstance  of  gooJ 
birth ;  had  a  polished  education  and  every  attribute  to  popu- 
larity apart  from  his  profession.  There  was  not  so  nmch  of 
merit  in  his  fame.  He  ought  to  have  been  all  that  partial 
historians  claim  for  him,  with  every  auxiliary  to  a  grandly 
beautiful  life  at  his  command.  While  I  admire  his  pictures, 
and  give  him  due  credit  for  the  good  in  him,  I  must  still  yield 
appreciation  to  the  hated,  annoyed  and  struggling  ones  who 
have  left  glory  upon  their  names,  a  laboriously  acquired  right." 

"AH  artists  have  to  labor;  the  most  gifted  and  fortune- 
favored  have  been  forced  to  labor  indefatigably  for  all  that 
they  have  attained." 

"  True.  Nothing  of  lasting  worth  is  achieved  without  it ; 
and  he  who  reaches  eminence  without  any  aid  save  his  own 
industry  and  ambition,  deserves  the  greater  credit.  If  he  must 
win  the  goal  through  ranks  of  contending  foes,  then  thrice 
glorified  is  that  man  in  my  eyes." 

"  Then  the  fortunate  of  earth's  children  must  go  their  way, 
and  in  you  the  lonely  and  oppressed  will  find  a  sympathizing 
friend." 

"  I  should  be  regardless  of  truth  to  deny  it  Captain  AVilfer, 
though  in  the  acknowledgment  I  may  be  charged  with  affecta- 
tion. I  do  not  wish  to  arrogate  to  myself  the  title  of  philan- 
thropist; I  shall  be  content  with  a  more  modest  and  unpre- 
tending name." 

"  You  could  not  have  a  nobler  ambition  than  to  win  such  a 
title.  It  is  seldom  that  we  find  young  ladies  who  will  not 
rather  shrink  from  than  seek  their  friendless  fellow-mortals. 
I  often  wonder,  in  not  finding  more  like  you,  when  woman's 
nature  is  so  universally  acknowledged  tender  and  generous. 
Why  is  it  that  there  are  so  few  really  benevolent  people  in  the 
world?" 

"  There  are  more  than  we  recognize.  The  really  benevolent 
work  out  their  ends  in  silence,  and  only  God  and  their  own 
hearts  know  the  ways  or  the  results.  We  must  ourselves  reach 
a  high  standard  in  the  scale  of  being,  before  we  can  see  the 


90  A   STOEY   OF   THE   GREAT   REBELLION. 

numberless  ranks  of  good  people  that  surround  us.  TYhat 
we  do  see  are  only  the  '  surface  crowds '  who  have  really  never 
known  suffering,  or  have  been  afflicted  so  lightly  as  only  ta 
drive  them  within  themselves,  finding  cause  for  fretting,  pining 
and  complaint — seeing  in  their  own  cases  the  'bitterest  sorrows 
known,'  while  the  remainder  of  the  world  have  no  conception 
of  what  sorrow  is.  It  is  singular  to  observe  how  selfish  small 
woes  make  the  majority  of  a  certain  class.  I  think  deep  suf- 
ferings and  o-reat  afflictions  are  almost  sure  to  make  the  victim 
generous,  charitable  and  sympathetic." 

"  The  inference  is  plain,"  said  the  Captain  with  a  thrill  in  his 
low  voice,  meetino;  her  glance  with  one  of  undisguised  feeling. 

She  blushed  and  turned  away  her  head,  partially  to  hide 
her  mortification.  The  next  moment  she  was  paler  and  colder 
than  before. 

"^Ve  are  becoming  personal,"  she  said  with  a  freezing  ring 
in  her  voice.  "I  do  not  intend  you  to  understand  that  my 
sorrows  have  been  heavier  than  the  sorrows  of  others.  The 
world  is  full  of  greater  sufiferlng  than  ever  I  have  known, 
doubtless." 

"Was  ever  so  strange  a  woman  created?"  thought  the 
Caj)tain,  smarting  under  the  sudden  change.  After  having 
kept  away  from  personal  allusions  so  long,  she  had  betrayed 
herself  unconsciously  into  opening  the  door  of  her  heart, 
until  he  could  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  beautiful  light  wijhin ; 
but  an  unguarded  sentence  thrust  him  from  the  threshold,  and 
the  winds  blew  cold  and  cliill  around  him.  The  light  and 
warmth  were  closed  fi'om  his  sight,  and  he  must  wander  away 
hungering.  Was  not  this  woman  in  all  her  generosity  more 
than  cruel  to  him?  She  might  at  least,  vouchsafe  to  make 
him  understand  wh^/  he  was  not  permitted  to  be  her  friend,  if 
no  more.  In  this  case,  of  the  two  she  was  wisest,  notwith- 
standing his  superior  knowledge  of  the  world.  He  would  not 
stop  to  reflect  upon  it,  else  he  must  have  owned  that  the  lover 
can  never  become  simply  the  friend  of  a  young  and  lovely 
woman. 


BAFFLED   AND   KEPT   AT   BAY.  91 

]\Irs.  Xoble  saw  the  embarrassing  restraint  that  had  fallen 
upon  tlie  two,  and  came  to  the  rescue  with  one  of  her  gay  sal- 
lies which  brought  a  laugh  from  both.  She  had  such  a  quaint 
way  of  saying  things  sometimes,  her  presence  was  invaluable. 
The  restraint  melted  away  at  once,  and  the  three  laughed  and 
jested  merrily,  ere  they  separated  for  the  night.  Captain 
"NVilfer  accompanied  them  to  the  door. 

"  Miss  Harmon,  as  I  have  yet  three  or  four  days  to  spare, 
will  you  not  allow  me  to  make  the  trip  to  Cincinnati?  I 
should  take  great  pleasure  in  relieving  you,  when  I  know  that 
you  cannot  be  spared  without  detriment  to  others.  Besides,  I 
am  sure  that  I  could  make  a  capital  nurse.  Let  me  take  this 
extra  duty  off  your  hands." 

"  You  are  kind  and  I  thank  you ;  but  you  could  not  do  it. 
The  boy  Is  entirely  helpless,  and  you  could  no  more  take  care 
of  him  than  you  could  of  a  baby." 

"You  will  not  undertake  It  alone?" 

"  Xo,  I  shall  take  a  nurse  along  to  help  me.     Good-night." 

"  Good-night,  Miss." 

He  turned  away  and  Avalked  rapidly  down  the  hall.  The 
request  had  been  preferred  under  a  desperate  Impulse.  If  she 
would  only  let  him  help  her  in  some  of  her  undertakings,  he 
might  at  length  win  a  little  kindness  at  her  hands — he  would 
be  so  unfeigncdly  sincere  In  his  efforts  to  aid  and  not  annoy 
her.  But  this  keeping  aloof,  these  eternal  repulses  were  ex- 
asperating. The  disorder  grew  upon  him.  The  Captain  Wil- 
fer  of  a  few  weeks  before,  and  the  Captain  Wllfer  of  to-night 
were  two  different  beings.  The  one  was  a  cool,  calm,  earnest, 
dignified  man,  the  other  more  resembled  a  hot-headed,  obsti- 
nate boy,  devoid  even  of  proper  pride  and  self-respect!  By 
the  time  he  reached  his  own  room,  he  was  thorouglily  angry 
with  himself 

"  Why  would  you  not  let  him  go  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Noble  when 
she  had  locked  the  door  and  thrown  herself  upon  a  sofa  to 
watch  Astrca  unfasten  her  luxuriant  hair,  "I  am  sure  it  would 
have  been  a  kindness  to  let  him  do  It,  and  spared  you  to  me 


92        A  STORY  OF  THE  GREAT  REBELLION. 

and  your  hospital.  How  I  am  to  get  along  without  you  is  a 
mystery." 

"The  time  will  be  very  short,  and  I  ought  to  go.  You 
should  know  that  it  will  not  do  for  me  to  accept  anything  from 
Captain  Wilfer  which  would  place  me  under  obligations  to  him, 
as  such  a  service  certainly  would.  I  had  hoped  that  you  would 
help  me  to  get  rid  of  him." 

"And  I  have  endeavored  to  do  so,  but  the  man  is  mad,  evi- 
dently. I  see  no  other  hope  for  you  than  to  make  him  imder- 
stand  your  reasons  for  repulsing  his  advances." 

"  No,  Mrs.  Noble,  I  wiU  not  be  forced  into  laying  my  heart 
and  life  bare  to  any  man  for  the  sake  of  freeing  myself  from 
his  attentions,"  she  answered  proudly.  "It  must  be  enough 
that  I  choose  to  treat  him  civilly,  without  giving  him  encour- 
agement. A  man  of  proper  feehng  and  self-respect  will  with- 
draw when  he  sees  that  he  is  not  welcome  as  a  suitor — not 
force  himself  upon  a  lady  who  shows  him  by  every  action  that 
his  presence  is  painful.  I  confess  myself  surprised  and  disap- 
pointed in  Captain  AVilfer." 

"Ah,  don't  be  severe,  Astrea!  Surely  the  woman  who 
wakens  so  strong;  a  sentiment  in  an  earnest  man's  heart  as  love, 
should  have  some  pity,  at  least." 

"  Have  I  done  this  willingly  ?  Is  the  fault  mine  that  he  cares 
for  me,  or  I  cannot  encourage  him?" 

"  Of  course  it  is  not.  Yet  I  think  I  should  be  a  little  like 
him,  with  such  a  nature  as  I  have.  "We  are  not  alike,  you  and 
I,  and  you  cannot  understand,  perhaps,  how  absolutely  neces- 
sary it  is  for  me  to  see  my  way  clearly.  I  must  hiow  why 
this  must  be  so,  and  that  must  not  be  so!  I  cannot  take  a 
mere  '  yes '  or  '  no,'  without  explanation.  You  could  let  people 
pass  to  and  fro  forever,  asking  no  questions,  content  that  they 
should  go  their  own  way,  and  attend  to  their  own  affairs ;  but 
that  is  because  you  wish  to  be  let  alone  yourself.  Am  I  not 
right?  I  dare  say,  however,  you  have  some  little  curiosity 
where  you  are  interested." 

"No.     If  those  who  interest  me,  tell  me  of  themselves,  1 


NIGHT  VIGILS.  93 

like  it ;  If  not,  I  cliarge  them  with  nothing  unfair,  and  never 
feel  dissatisfied  with  their  course.  We  have  no  right  what- 
ever, to  that  which  is  not  spontaneously  given.  I  could  never 
take  the  smallest  degree  of  pleasure  in  a  thing  wrung  from 
any  one.'* 

"You  are  peculiar!  but  never  mind.  You  shall  not  be 
teased.  Keep  your  own  counsel  till  it  pleases  you  to  impart 
what  you  know.  I  long  to  hear  you  tell  me.  Don't  sit  up 
to-night,  will  you?" 

"  For  awhile  I  must." 

Then  they  were  silent.  Mrs.  Noble  assumed  her  white 
wrapper,  brushed  her  hair,  read  her  Bible  and  knelt  down  for  a 
few  minutes  in  prayer.  Ten  minutes  later  her  regular  breath- 
ing announced  quiet  sleep,  while  her  companion  sat  before  the 
table,  her  long  hair  sweeping  around  her  like  a  veil,  and  the 
pen  rapidly  passing  over  the  paper  beneath  her  eyes.  It  was 
past  midnight  when  she  sought  her  place  by  Mrs.  Noble's  side 
and  wearily  dropped  upon  the  pillow.  Soon  she  slept  too,  but 
that  sleep  was  restless  and  broken  with  feverish  dreams. 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

TAKING    A   YOUNG    SOLDIER    HOI^IE    TO    DIE— RUMORS 
OF   A    BATTLE. 

Notwithstanding  the  anger  with  which  Captain  Wilfer 
had  arraigned  himself  before  his  keener,  better  judgment,  the 
morning  found  him  watching  for  Miss  Harmon,  that  he  might 
see  her  safely  on  board  the  boat  that  was  to  take  her  to  Cin- 
cinnati. He  took  a  position  commanding  a  view  of  the  hall, 
and  as  he  paced  back  and  forth  with  his  hands  behind  him, 
watched  the  door  anxiously.  Anger  was  useless,  and  he 
smiled  scornfully  at  judgment  in  his  mental  revolutions  at  this 
moment.  "What  did  it  signify  if  he  was  silly  and  boyish? 
Better  men  had  been  made  foolish  before  him  by  beautiful 
and  wiUful  women.  Why  should  he  loathe  the  chains  in 
which  he  found  himself  bound  helplessly?  He  had  not  sought 
them,  nor  could  he  shake  them  off.  The  spell  had  been 
woven  about  him  without  will  or  wish,  and  no  coldness  could 
chill  the  warm,  rich  love  born  of  this  woman's  beauty  and 
power.  No  ordinary  woman  could  thus  creep  into  liis  heart 
with  unwilling  strength  and  steal  away  his  self-control ;  and 
as  his  sophistical  reasoning  took  this  form,  he  began  to  grow 
proud  of  his  thralldom.  Then,  out  of  love  and  pride,  came 
a  resolve  deep  and  earnest.  If  it  was  in  the  power  of  man 
to  win  and  bend  her  by  the  force  of  a  sincere  and  ennobling 
passion,  he  would  yet  become  her  master.  This  should  be 
the  one  great  aim  of  his  life.  A  little  while  since,  and  ambi- 
tion had  been  his  ruling  passion ;  but  now  ambition  was  sec- 


LOVE   CONQUERING   AMBITION.  95 

ondary  to  love,  and  it  was  a  new  sensation.  Hitherto  the 
blind  god  had  kept  far  away  from  him,  and  he  had  passed 
unscathed  by  beauty  and  brilliance.  Now  freedom  was  gone, 
and  he  was  compelled  to  own  himself  the  slave  of  one  who 
showed  him,  by  every  sign  in  woman's  power,  that  his  suit 
was  disagreeable  and  painful  to  her. 

While  he  walked  slowly,  meditating  upon  his  mortifying 
position,  the  ladies  had  taken  an  early  breakfast,  and  INIiss 
Harmon  came  out  ready  for  her  journey.  A  messenger  had 
already  been  in  to  inform  her  that  her  charge  was  safely  on 
board  the  boat  and  waiting.  She  had  only  to  follow,  and  in 
half  an  hour,  would  be  steaming  up  the  Ohio  River. 

Captain  Wilfer  was  at  the  head  of  the  stairs,  lifting  his  hat 
with  a  graceful  morning  salutation.  No  anxious  face,  or  ex- 
pression of  disappointment  now.  He  was  taking  a  new  course, 
and  it  best  suited  him  to  be  polite  without  any  special  show 
of  interest. 

"I  had  an  early  walk,  Miss  Harmon,  and  happening  to  be 
in  the  hotel  just  now,  I  will  ask  your  permission  to  see  you 
safely  on  board.    Let  me  carry  your  traveling  bag." 

She  gave  it  to  him  quietly,  walking  beside  him  in  silence 
until  they  reached  the  boat.  Then  the  only  acknowledgment 
she  made  was  in  cold  and  frigidly  polite  terms.  He  had  not 
expected  anything  else,  but  it  exasperated  him  to  find  her  so 
unmoved  when  it  might  be  the  last  time  she  should  ever  see 
him.  Was  he  not  goinn;  to  the  field,  where  a  battle  was  im- 
minent;  and  could  she  remember  this  in  connection  with  any 
man  without  a  show  of  feeling  or  interest  ?  His  own  resolu- 
tion to  preserve  a  cold  and  polite  demeanor  melted  with  the 
thought,  and  he  changed  his  plans  accordingly — so  vacil- 
lating does  love  make  us.  The  lono-Ino:  to  hear  one  wortl 
of  earnest  encouragement  from  her  lips  had  groATn  In  the 
moment  when  about  to  part,  stronger  than  any  other,  and  he 
could  not  leave  her  without  it.  As  he  hesitated  In  putting 
his  thoughts  into  words,  she  looked  into  his  face,  and  there 
read  what  he  could  not  express.     Her  features  assumed  a  soft 


96        A  STORY  OF  THE  GREAT  REBELLION. 

and  sweet  gravity  as  she  held  out  her  hand  frankly,  answerincr 
his  thoughts. 

"  Captain  Wilfer,  you  are  going  forth  to  a  mighty  work — 
to  danger, — perhaps  to  death.  As  a  loyal  man  I  know  your 
duty  will  be  well  done,  and  I  bid  you  God  speed  with  a  sin- 
cere wish  for  your  success.  As  a  servant  of  our  beloved 
country,  I  shall  ever  remember  you  kindly.  May  your  Hfe 
long  be  spared  and  a  useful  career  before  you  lead  you  on  to 
glory  and  triumph.  If  it  will  be  any  comfort  to  you  in  the 
hour  of  battle  to  know  that  others  remember  you  prayerfully, 
believe  that  I  shall  not  forget  you.     Good-bye." 

Did  her  eyes  really  grow  humid?  Was  there  a  tremor  in 
her  voice  in  uttering:  those  sweet  words  ?  He  could  not  doubt 
it,  but  it  was  for  the  soldier — not  the  suitor  this  emotion  was 
shown.  She  made  him  feel  that,  yet  his  heart  thrilled  with  a 
sense  of  delight  which  gave  rise  to  the  thought,  "  When  I  am 
more  worthy  of  you  I  shall  hope  to  win  you.  If  ever  man 
earned  the  love  of  glorious  woman,  I  will  claim  the  right  to 
yours."     Aloud  he  said  modestly: 

"  Thank  you  for  the  assurance.  It  will  indeed  be  a  comfort 
to  me  to  be  so  remembered,  and  I  shall  treasure  this  promise 
with  deepest  gratitude.  The  time  is  coming  when  we  shall 
need  the  prayers  of  our  friends ;  and  those  who  stand  afar  off 
to  look  on,  will  do  well  to  keep  in  mind  the  imperiled  ones 
whose  ways  are  through  dangers,  and  will  bring  to  many  death. 
Yours  will  be  no  careless  eye  to  see  our  danger — and  no  luke- 
warm prayers  will  fall  from  your  lips.  To  think  of  your  earn- 
est patriotism  alone,  would  nerve  me  to  action ;  to  know  that 
you  give  a  thought  to  me,  and  have  confidence  in  my  sincerity 
.  of  purpose  will  add  tenfold  to  my  power.  For  these  words, 
so  kindly  spoken,  I  thank  you  again,  and  leave  you  a  better 
man  for  having  heard  them.     God  bless  you." 

She  did  not  withdraw  the  hand  he  held  when  he  bent  to  kiss 
it.  Something  of  his  own  spirit  was  in  her,  and  she  could  not 
deny  him  this  last  encouragement  to  duty.  The  next  moment 
he  was  gone,  and  she  sat  down  thoughtfully  beside  the  sick 


WITH   THE   SICK   SOLDIER   BOY.  97 

boy  whose  large  eyes  had  scarcely  left  her  face  during  the 
brief  interview.  All  his  medicines,  water,  sponge,  and  ices 
had  been  placed  near  him,  so  that  she  might  give  him  the  best 
of  care ;  but  when  she  sought  to  wet  his  lips,  he  turned  his 
head  away  quickly,  saying  with  child-like  directness: 

"  Don't.  I  don't  want  anything  now.  Who  was  that  gen- 
tleman that  just  now  went  away?" 

"  Captain  Wilfcr,  an  officer  in  the  Federal  army." 

"Do  you  like  him?" 

"  Yes,  rather.     We  must  like  good  people." 

"  Then  you  must  be  very  good." 

"Why?" 

"  Because  everybody  likes  you  so  much.  I  like  you,  and 
all  the  boys  like  you  up  at  the  hospital.  I  saw  a  fellow  cry 
like  a  child  last  night  when  the  new  nurse  you  sent  there  came 
to  him.  He  said  It  wasn't  you,  and  he  did  not  want  anybody 
but  you.  I  guess  the  Captain  thinks  a  sight  of  you,  too, 
He  looked  at  you  as  If  he  did." 

Miss  Harmon's  color  rose,  for  those  large  j)enetratlng  eyes 
were  watching  her  closely.  Ill  as  he  was,  he  evidently  took 
delini;ht  In  making  her  feel  that  he  divined  the  true  state  of 
her  suitor's  feelino;s. 

"You  ought  not  to  talk,  Frankle;  it  makes  you  so  weak. 
You  are  panting  now  from  the  exertion  of  saying  so  much. 
Be  quiet,  my  boy." 

A  quiet  light  dawned  In  the  boy's  eyes.  "  I  know.  You 
don't  want  me  to  talk  about  him  because  It  makes  you  blush. 
I  guess  you  like  him,  too;  I  wish  you  didn't,  though." 

"AVhy?" 

"  I'm  jealous.  When  I  get  well,  I  Avant  you  to  like  me  bet- 
ter than  anybody,  and  come  and  live  with  my  mother.  She's 
spk'ndid.     Won't  you  ?  " 

Astrea's  eyes  filled  with  tears,  and  they  dropped  on  the 
little  thin  hand  she  held. 

"  Dear  Frankle,  I  do  love  you  very  much,  and  I  wish  it 
could  be — that — that — " 
7 


98        A  STORY  OF  THE  GREAT  REBELLION. 

She  could  not  finish  the  sentence,  and  he  demanded  eagerly. 

"Could  what?     Tell  me." 

"You  could  get  well,  dear  boy — for  your  poor  mother's 
sake." 

"You  don't  think  I  will?"  very  wistfully.  Was  it  kind  to 
feed  him  upon  false  hopes,  and  let  him  pass  away  without 
thought  or  preparation?  His  only  wish  had  been  to  go  home, 
and  now  that  the  hope  of  seeing  his  mother  was  so  near  reali- 
zation, his  spirits  rose  into  a  confidence  painful  to  dissipate. 
She  knew  that  he  could  not  long  enjoy  the  attainment  of 
earthly  aspirations,  and  sorrowed  for  him  as  only  those  can 
sorrow  who  have  tested  the  bitterness  of  disappointment  in 
all  dearest  tilings.  Gentle  she  was,  always,  but  doubly  gen- 
tle now,  looking  at  the  wan  face  and  wistful  eyes. 

"Do  you  think,  Frankie,  you  would  be  afraid  to  go  away 
from  the  earth  if  God  should  please  to  take  you?"  speaking 
softly. 

"  I  don't  know.  I  don't  want  to  go.  Not  that  I'm  afraid, 
but — my  mother !  " 

How  the  weak  voice  faltered !  She  bowed  her  head  to  the 
boy's  pillow  and  strove  to  say  quietly,  keeping  back  her  tears, 

"  Your  mother  will  not  miss  you  long,  perhaps,  and  it  is  a 
pleasant  thing  to  think  that  when  you  meet  again  there  will 
be  no  more  parting  or  suffering.  I  want  you  to  think  about 
death,  dear  Frankie,  because  it  is  a  calm,  sweet  sleep  that 
will  come  to  you  soon.  Think  of  it  without  dread  or  fear, 
for  there  is  nothing  awful  in  it.  God  loves  his  children,  and 
calls  them  home  to  happiness  and  rest.  Those  with  whom 
they  cannot  stay  on  earth  come  after  them,  and  oh !  the  joy  of 
being  reunited  forever !  I  would  like  it,  Frankie.  If  I  could 
give  you  my  health  and  strength  for  your  weakness  and  near- 
ness to  that  happy  change,  I  think  I  could  be  selfish  enough 
to  want  to  take  your  place.  If  life  on  earth  is  sweet  to  the 
young,  how  much  sweeter  must  be  life  in  heaven,  where  only 
pure  happiness  is  known.  A^Tien  you  go,  you  leave  all  ills 
behind  you,  while  men  will  say  of  you,  'he  was  a  brave,  no- 


WITH   THE   SICK   SOLDIER  BOY.  99 

ble  boy,  whose  life  was  given  to  his  country,  when  stronger 
and  more  able  men  held  back 'from  their  duty.'  Does  tliis 
thought  give  you  any  pleasure  ?  " 

"Yes,"  and  the  kindling  eye  and  cheek  told  her  that  the 
effort  had  not  been  made  in  vain  to  turn  his  thoughts  into  a 
proper  channel.  Soon  he  turned  his  cheek  to  the  pillow  of 
his  cot  and  closed  his  eyes.  Seeing  his  lips  move,  she  bowed 
her  ear  and  caught  fragments  of  a  childish  prayer,  learned, 
doubtless,  at  his  mother's  knee.  After  that  he  lay  silent  for 
a  long  time;  and  finally  slept. 

The  river  being  high  with  the  Spring  floods,  their  progress 
was  slow;  but  time  did  not  hang  heavily.  When  awake 
Frankie  loved  to  hear  her  read  to  him  from  her  little  pocket 
Bible,  or  to  sing  for  him  as  she  had  often  done  at  the  hospital. 
Sometimes  she  talked  to  him  in  such  a  sweet,  earnest  way 
about  death,  all  its  terrors  vanished,  and  he  awaited  it  in  peace- 
ful, calm  content.  It  was  singular,  how  she  could  win  people 
to  her  own  way  of  thinking  in  whatever  she  strove  to  attain. 
Herself  longing  for  rest,  and  seeing  in  it  nothing  to  dread,  she 
had  made  death  appear  not  only  beautiful,  but  desirable  to 
this  boy  just  in  the  bloom  of  early  youth.  He  no  longer 
thought  or  cared  to  live  on  earth  after  she  had  painted  the 
other  life  in  such  exquisite  colors.  Only  he  wished  that  his 
mother  and  Astrea  could  go  with  him.  Was  it  wrong  if  she 
murmured  to  herself  in  reply  to  his  wish : 

"Oh,  if  it  could  be!" 

Yes.  She  knew  that  it  was  not  right — that  the  ceaseless 
longincf  for  death  was  little  short  of  rebellion  ao-ainst  the  will 
of  Him  whose  purposes  she  could  not  yet  understand  in  her 
afflictions.  If  her  daily  cries  for  strength  and  patience  seemed 
unheard,  it  is  no  wonder  that  she  grew  faint  and  weary  in  the 
struggle :  yet  God  requires  of  his  children  a  blind  faith  which 
questions  not  his  ways.  She  had  not  reached  this  state.  It 
would  be  lono;  before  she  could  reach  it  in  her  conflIctIn<T:  emo- 
tions.  Strangers  looked  with  interest  at  the  fair  young  face, 
and  many  flattered  her  as  people  are  wont  to  do  when  they  see 


100       A  STORY  OF  THE  GREAT  EEBELLIOX. 

the  young  and  lovely  sacrificing  youth  and  beauty  to  human- 
ity. Some  censured  and  criticised  her  course  as  improper, 
not  hesitating  to  speak  their  thoughts  in  her  hearing,  little 
aware  of  her  utter  indifference  to  all  that  they  chose  to  utter. 
While  she  and  her  charge  were  objects  of  curiosity  and  in- 
terest to  all,  she  would  sit  for  hours  beside  the  cot,  and  when 
not  reading  or  talking  to  him,  give  way  to  thoughtful  ques- 
tionings and  conjectures.  How  many  miles  of  fair  southern 
land  she  traversed  in  fancy,  during  those  watchful  hours ! 
How  many  dear  familiar  scenes  and  faces  were  recalled! 
What  spasms  of  anguish  swept  over  the  fair  face  while  the 
cry  in  her  heart  grew  more  intense.  "  Give  me  patience.  I 
cannot  bear  it!  Lost  to  me — torn  from  me — all  that  I  love. 
I  cannot  even  know  if  sickness,  or  death  comes  to  my  darling. 
Oh,  help  me  to  wait  and  be  strong.  Have  pity  on  me,  oh  my 
Father.  Look  into  my  torn  heart — see  how  I  suffer,  and  be 
merciful! " 

Meanwhile  Mrs.  Noble  left  alone  with  her  duties  performed 
them  steadily,  sad  and  lonely  in  her  friend's  absence.  On  the 
third  day  a  matron  was  established  in  each  of  the  hospitals, 
with  assistants  who  were  competent  to  give  them  all  the  aid 
they  required,  and  she  found  herself  at  liberty  to  take  some 
rest.  Captain  Wilfer  had  returned  immediately  to  Pittsburg 
Landing,  from  which  place  letters  came  almost  daily  from  her 
husband.  He  reported  the  Captain  moody  and  almost  morose, 
shunning  society,  and  giving  all  his  time  to  the  study  of  mili- 
tary tactics,  that  was  not  employed  in  active  duty.  By  this 
she  inferred  that  he  was  striving  to  overcome  his  passion,  and 
for  his  sake,  grew  more  at  ease  on  the  subject.  After  awhile 
it  was  abandoned,  and  ceased  to  be  discussed  in  their  corres- 
pondence, other  things  arising  of  more  immediate  importance. 
So  sped  the  time  away  until  that  eventful  7th  of  Apr.'l,  a 
never-to-be-forgotten  day  in  the  annals  of  American  history. 

A  calm,  quiet  Sabbath  dawned  over  Paducah.  White 
clouds  drifted  over  the  clear  sky  slowly  in  broken  masses,  add- 
ing to  the  beauty  of  the  day.     The  two  ladies  had  been  to 


THE  CALM  BEFORE  A  STORM.  101 

visit  the  hospitals  and  returned,  after  the  morning  service  by 
the  chaphiin;  and  now  they  sat  quietly  before  the  window, 
looking  out  in  silence. 

No  sweet  chimes  of  Sabbath  bells  broke  on  the  air  here. 
The  hum  of  business  was  hushed;  no  sounds  disturbed  the 
almost  oppressive  stillness.  Toying  with  the  leaves  of  her 
prayer  book,  Mrs.  Noble  said  dreamily : 

"  One  could  almost  wish  something  to  happen  such  a  day 
as  this.  I  feel  stifled,  crushed  down  with  an  inexpressible 
weight.  I  wonder  if  it  is  the  natural  result  of  a  Sabbath 
without  bells.     I  miss  them  so  very  much." 

"  I  do  not  know,  but  I  imagine  it  something  more  portent- 
ous. You  disclaim  superstition — so  do  I;  still  I  feel  as  if 
something  unusual  is  about  to  happen.  In  Nature  the  calm 
before  a  storm  denotes  its  power,  and  we  may  well  dread  it." 

Her  voice  was  very  sad.  Since  her  return  from  Cincinnati 
a  great  change  had  come  over  her.  The  pallor  of  her  cheek 
had  given  way  to  a  vivid  flush.  Sometimes  her  eyes  would 
flash,  and  an  expression  of  fierce  defiance  sweep  over  her  fea- 
tures. She  was  evidently  laboring  under  some  great  excite- 
ment; whether  the  result  of  overwork,  or  caused  by  some 
secret  trouble,  Mrs.  Noble  could  not  tell,  and  dared  not  ques- 
tion. Astrea  had  her  own  peculiar  way  of  checking  inquiries, 
and  if  she  chose,  gave  straightforward  replies  which  explained 
nothing.  Had  she  confessed  the  truth,  Mrs.  Noble  would 
have  owned  herself  somewhat  afraid  of  her  in  spite  of  her 
growing  affection.  And  it  may  be  that,  perceiving  this  im- 
pression, Astrea  had  tried  to  deepen  it  in  order  to  shield  her- 
self from  her  friend's  inquiries  into  -private  matters. 

But,  looking  at  her  now  in  her  quiet  mood,  with  her  sub- 
dued manner  and  sad  voice,  yearning  and  wistful  under  the 
influences  of  the  day,  she  could  not  restram  herself,  and  once 
more  approached  forbidden  ground. 

"  How  thin  and  delicate  you  are  growing,  Astrea.  When 
you  have  no  color,  as  now,  it  is  painful  to  mark  the  change  of 
a  few  short  weeks.     Why  will  you  suffer  in  silence,  accepting 


102  A   STORY    or   THE   GREAT   REBELLION. 

no  sympathy?  It  is  unnatural.  Woman  was  never  created 
to  suffer  alone." 

"I  must  be  an  exception  in  this,  then,  as  in  other  things. 
Not  yet  can  I  share  my  troubles  with  others." 

"Not  even  for  the  sake  of  relief?" 

"It  would  only  add  to  my  misery." 

"  I  cannot  see  how — ^I  cannot  understand,  but  of  course  you 
know  best.  That  I  love  you  is  a  fact  you  cannot  doubt ;  and 
I  do  not  know  that  I  have  ever  forfeited  your  confidence. 
You  might  ti'ust  me,  I  think.  To  see  you  suffering  and  fading 
before  my  eyes  day  after  day,  almost  breaks  my  heart." 

Miss  Harmon's  eyes  met  her  tearful  gaze,  wistful  and  bright. 

"Do  you  care  so  much  for  me  as  that,  Helen?" 

"I  do,  indeed.  I  have  no  sisters  or  mother,  Astrea,  and  few 
friends  who  understand  me.  With  more  of  confidence,  you 
could  be  all  the  world  to  me  as  a  friend.  I  wish  you  would 
make  up  your  mind  to  be  less  reserved." 

"I  will  soon.^' 

Miss  Harmon  left  her  chair,  knelt  at  Mrs.  Noble's  side  and 
put  her  arms  around  her,  leaning  her  head  against  her  shoulder. 

"  For  your  dear  love,  I  thank  you  with  all  my  soul.  Nothing 
on  earth  beside,  can  be  more  precious  and  ennobhng  than  the 
love  of  a  good  woman,  bestowed  upon  one  of  her  own  sex.  I 
do  appreciate  it,  and  am  profoundly  grateful  for  it.  Perhaps 
in  a  few  days  I  can  tell  you  all  you  wish  to  know." 

"Why  not  now?  Has  anything  of  importance  occurred 
since  you  went  away?  Ever  since  your  return  you  have  been 
so  flushed,  so  excited,  I  feared  you  were  threatened  with  fever. 
Is  it  mental  disquiet?" 

"  Yes,  Helen,  deep  and  fearful.  I  have  been  tried  hardly. 
While  in  Cincinnati  I  heard  of  one  who  held  my  life  in  his 
hands  once — whom  I  loved  better  than  my  own  life!  He 
proved  unworthy,  and  turned  my  affection  into  bitterness,  con- 
tempt— almost  to  hatred.  I  should  hate  him,  did  not  God  take 
pity  on  me  and  preserve  me  from  it.  I  have  a  ceaseless  struggle 
to  control  my  feelings  when  I  remember  who  and  what  he  is, 


TURNING   TO   THE   UOSPITAL   FOR   RELIEF.  103 

and  the  power  he  still  has  over  me  to  make  me  wretched.  Ask 
me  no  more  now,  Helen.  I  will  tell  you  only  this.  In  the  Con- 
federate camp  not  far  from  Corinth,  is  an  officer,  who,  while  he 
has  no  control  over  my  person,  holds,  as  it  were,  every  tender 
chord  of  my  heart  in  his  cruel  hands ;  and  he  is  merciless  as  a 
fiend !     Oh,  my  God,  my  God ! " 

She  rose  from  her  kneeling  posture  and  paced  the  floor  rap- 
idly, her  breath  coming  in  gasps.  The  struggle  for  self-control 
was  intense — hands  locked  in  mute  anguish — wrung  together 
with  indomitable  will.  As  Mrs.  Noble  watched  her  in  painful 
surprise,  her  own  heart  ached  with  sympathy.  She  had  never 
seen  any  human  being  so  moved,  yet  so  resolute  to  conquer  her- 
self And  in  woman,  naturally  so  dependent  and  confiding  in 
others,  there  was  something  terrible  in  the  fierce  determination 
her  face  and  manner  expressed.  Finally  she  sank  upon  her 
knees  by  the  bed,  burying  her  face  in  the  covering,  while  her 
companion  slipped  to  the  floor  and  bowed  her  head  in  silent 
prayer.  Before  she  had  time  to  rise.  Miss  Harmon  was  at 
her  side,  calmed  magically  by  the  sheer  force  of  a  strong  will ; 
but  her  eyes  wore  a  strained,  glittering  expression  and  her 
voice  was  sharp,  and  unnatural. 

"  Come  out.  The  house  stifles  me.  Perhaps  we  had  better 
visit  the  hospitals  again;  the  poor  boys  like  to  see  us,  and  I 
forget  everything  else  when  I  am  there." 

Without  hesitation  Mrs.  Noble  went  for  her*hat,  and  the 
two  walked  up  the  street  together,  and  turned  across  to  the 
quiet  hospital.  Here  everything  wore  the  same  calm,  serene 
appearance,  and  an  unusual  silence  pervaded  the  wards.  As 
they  entered  the  building,  clouds  drifted  over  the  sun,  mellow- 
ing the  light ;  but  it  was  pleasant  to  receive  the  glad  greeting 
of  those  who  had  gratefully  acknowledged  their  care.  Mrs. 
Noble  paused  to  speak  to  an  old  man,  who  beckoned  her  to 
come  nearer,  and  Astrea  crossed  the  room  to  a  hypochondriacal 
patient  who  lay  buried  in  blankets  enough  to  smother  him. 
In  a  moment  she  was  heard  to  laugh  merrily,  and  Mrs.  Noble 
caught  the  sound  of  her  voice  in  playful  raillery. 


104  A   STORY   OF   THE   GEEAT  REBELLION. 

"  Why,  grandmotlier,  you  seem  to  be  cold  this  bright  April 
day.     One  would  think  you  in  Greenland." 

"I'm  so  'fraid  of  takin'  cold,"  murmured  the  man  in  a  whin- 
ing voice. 

"Nonsense,  you  cannot  get  cold  such  a  day  as  this;  and 
what  you  need  is  fresh  air.  Throw  oflf  some  of  those  super- 
fluous blankets — take  that  silk  handkerchief  from  about  your 
head,  and  breathe  the  air  fearlessly.  You  are  not  sick  now — 
only  weak,  and  a  little  air  and  exercise  will  give  you  a  good 
appetite.  Get  up  and  take  a  few  turns  around  the  room,  and 
I  will  have  the  nicest  of  dinners  prepared  for  you  presently. 
All  you  want  is  to  regain  strength.  You  look  much  better 
than  you  did  yesterday — or  would,  if  I  could  see  your  face. 
Do  you  know  what  you  remind  me  of,  with  your  nose  peeping 
out  of  that  muffler." 

"What?" 

"The  wolf  dressed  up  as  Eed  Eidinghood's  grandmother." 

A  general  laugh  responded,  and  the  man  got  up  feebly, 
dropping  his  wraps  with  reluctant  hands. 

"You  are  sure  I  won't  take  cold?" 

"Very  sure.  What  have  you  eaten  to-day?  You  were 
sleeping  when  I  came  this  morning,  so  I  could  not  ask  you." 

"  O,  I  haint  eat  nothin'  to  speak  on  at  all.  Nobody  gits 
anything  I  kin  eat  when  you  aint  here.  If  it  hadn't  'a'  been 
for  you,  I'd  'a'  died  long  ago.     You've  been  the  savin'  of  me." 

"  Thank  you ;  but  1  cannot  save  you  yet,  if  you  will  persist 
in  this  kind  of  work.  You  must  take  exercise  and  air,  eat 
good  food  and  be  cheerful.  If  you  will  do  this,  I  will  get  the 
Doctor  to  give  you  a  certificate  for  a  furlough  in  a  week,  and 
you  may  go  home  to  your  friends.  I  dare  say  that  a  certain 
little  girl  there  would  be  delighted  to  see  you." 

He  opened  his  eyes  wide. 

"How  did  you  know  about  her?" 

"Jessie?  O,  a  little  bird  told  me.  Never  mind  now;  go 
and  take  a  walk  while  I  see  the  cook  and  order  your  dinner.'* 

"I  'bleve  you're  a  witch,"  he  muttered,  his  face  alive  with 


"FOR   HIS    COUNTRY."  105 

pleasure  as  he  reached  for  his  cane  that  stood  by  tlie  cot,  and 
slowly  started  off.  Astrea  took  his  arm,  steadied  him  until  he 
reached  the  middle  of  the  broad-aisle,  then  left  him  to  himself, 
and  started  for  the  kitchen. 

"Come  to  me  soon,  won't  you?"  asked  a  feeble  boy  as  she 
passed  a  cot  in  going  out. 

"  Yes,  in  a  minute,  Willie.     Do  you  want  anything  to  eat? " 

"Not  now,  thank  you.  I  only  want  to  talk  to  you  a  min- 
ute." 

In  a  few  moments  she  came  back  and  sat  down  beside  him. 

"  I  wanted  to  ask  you  about  Frankle  Hays.  He  used  to  be 
close  to  me,  and  I  knew  he  would  die  soon.  Since  you  came 
back  I  have  not  had  a  chance  to  ask  you  about  him." 

"He  is  sleeping  to-day  in  Spring-grove  Cemetery,"  she  an- 
swered softly.  "  I  took  him  home  in  time  to  see  his  mother ; 
and  a  little  while  later  he  was  gone,  very  peacefully  and  hap- 
pily. The  day  after  his  burial,  I  left  the  city,  but  I  first  saw 
a  little  white  shaft  that  bore  his  name  and  date  of  his  death, 
with  a  beautiful  line  below  which  said,  'For  his  country.'  No 
one  will  ever  look  upon  that  simple  record  without  a  thrill  of 
honor  for  the  noble  boy  who  sleeps  beneath  it.  His  mother 
will  soon  lie  by  his  side,  and  I  am  glad  to  think  that  none  will 
be  left  behind  to  sorrow  bitterly  for  them.  Strangers  soon 
forget  the  poor,  no  matter  how  worthy  they  may  be — how  dif- 
ferent their  stations  in  life  may  have  been.  How  do  you  feel 
to-day?" 

"Pretty  well.  I  shall  get  on  nicely  I  dare  say.  Every- 
body is  kind  to  me." 

"  As  they  should  be.  It  is  little  enough  we  can  do,  when 
compared  with  what  you  have  done.  I  often  wish  when  I 
think  of  those  battles  where  boys  like  you  faced  the  storm  like 
heroes,  I  could  have  been  a  man  to  share  your  danger.  Such 
brave  spirits  as  yours  always  make  me  ^nbitious  and  enthu- 
siastic." 

The  youth's  eyes  kindled. 

"You  make  others  feel  the  same  ^vay.     TVbenp^'ei  y^iv  t«lk 


106  A    STORY   OF   THE    GREAT   REBELLIOX. 

to  me,  I  always  long  to  be  well  and  go  back  again  to  my  regi- 
ment." 

"  O,  you  will  be  well  soon.  Now  I  must  leave  you  and  see 
to  others.     Do  you  think  of  anything  you  want?" 

"  Nothing,  thank  you.  I  am  much  obliged  to  you  for  com- 
ing to  me." 

She  glided  away;  in  a  few  moments  Mrs.  Noble  saw  her 
administering  medicine  to  some  other  patients  lower  down  the 
same  ward.  After  that  she  saw  her  take  a  small  tin  cup  from 
a  cupboard,  and  disappear.  In  a  moment  she  came  back  with 
it  and  a  small  flannel  cloth  in  her  hands.  The  cup  contained 
vinegar  and  into  it  she  had  put  a  spoonful  of  cayenne  pepper. 
This  she  put  upon  the  stove  to  heat. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  with  that,  Astrea?" 

"  Bathe  Mr.  Nicholls'  arms  and  hands.  He  is  in  great  pain 
with  inflammatory  rheumatism,  and  I  find  this  remedy  gives 
unmediate  relief.     Did  you  never  try  it?" 

"No,  but  I  will  the  first  opportunity  I  have." 

Astrea  turned  back  her  sleeves,  took  the  cup  and  flannel,  and 
went  to  NichoUs.  Mrs.  Noble  followed  her,  and  saw  her  bare 
the  man's  arms,  dip  the  cloth  in  the  hot  vinegar  and  apply  it 
carefully.  Mr.  NichoUs  was  groaning  very  bitterly  when  she 
went  to  him,  but  as  the  application  brought  relief,  he  closed 
his  eyes  with  a  breath  of  thankfulness. 

"  Ah,  that  is  nice !  I  have  not  slept  since  night  before  last, 
and  am  about  worn  out." 

Before  she  had  done,  he  was  in  a  quiet  slumber,  and  spread- 
ing a  blanket  across  his  chest  to  protect  his  arms  and  shoulders 
from  the  air,  she  bore  the  empty  cup  back  to  the  kitchen. 

"  How  I  wish  I  could  be  as  efficient  as  you  are,"  said  Mrs. 
Noble  Avhen  she  returned.  "  With  all  my  experience,  I  never 
can  be  so  ready  in  what  I  have  to  do,  but  always  must  stop 
and  think,  and  calculate !  You  seem  to  know  without  a  mo- 
ment's thought." 

"That  is  from  habit,  however.  There  is  the  doctor,  and  I 
must  speak  to  him  about  the  amputation  which  must  be  per- 


FIGHTING   AT  PITTSBURG  LANDING.  107 

forniod  on  John  Mason's  arm.  Poor  fellow !  We  cannot  save 
it  lor  him." 

"  The  doctor's  face  was  grave  as  she  approached  him. 

"Have  you  heard  the  news,  Miss  Harmon?" 

"No.     Anything  unusual  going  on?" 

"  Fighting  at  the  Landing.  Rebels  attacked  them  this  morn- 
ing, and  seized  our  camps.  The  accounts  are  confiised,  and  may 
not  be  true  ;  yet  I  fear  that,  so  far,  it  has  gone  hard  with  us." 

"  Oh,  do  not  say  it.     We  tvill  not  be  beaten." 

"  Not  if  all  men  were  Hke  you,  should  we  be  beaten.  You 
have  the  spirit  of  a  hero." 

"  Mrs.  Noble !  She  is  going  to  faint,  doctor."  She  had  come 
near  enough  to  hear  what  they  were  saying,  and  a  sudden  fear 
had  seized  her  that  for  a  moment  deprived  her  of  strength. 

"No,  no!  It  is  but  momentary.  How  long  did  you  say 
they  had  been  fighting?" 

"  Since  daylight,  report  says.     The  battle  still  rages  hotly." 

"  Oh,  God  protect  my  darling,"  murmured  the  wife,  turn- 
ing her  pallid  face  away.  They,  heard,  and  uttered  a  solemn 
"  amen." 

Only  anxious  faces  were  seen  In  Paducah  that  day.  Even 
the  rebels,  while  they  exulted,  were  uncertain  and  wavering 
in  their  triumph,  for  reports  conflicted  too  much  to  give  them 
a  positive  ground  on  which  to  stand.  In  the  meantime,  let  us 
look  upon  the  field  of  action,  and  see  what  is  being  done  there. 


CHAPTEE    IX. 

THE    BATTLE    OF    PITTSBURG    LANDING. 

Day  had  dawned  clear  and  lovely.  A  few  fleecy  clouds 
drifted  slowly  athwart  the  sky,  addmg  to  the  beauty  of  the 
Sabbath  morning.  A  battle  had  long  been  expected,  and  our 
officers  were  looking  anxiously  for  Buell's  arrival,  growing 
more  and  more  eager  as  tlie  enemy  grew  more  bold.  On  the 
fourth  and  fifth  the  enemy's  cavalry  had  appeared  and  effected 
some  injury,  but  made  no  alarming  show  of  deadly  determina- 
tion. It  is  doubtful  if  many  in  command  of  the  Federal  forces, 
looked  upon  the  dawning  of  that  Sabbath  as  the  dawning  of 
a  most  eventful  day  in  the  history  of  their  struggle  for  the 
Union.  It  is  so  natural,  even  with  strong  indications  of  the 
nearness  of  danger,  to  fix  it  farther  than  it  really  is  from  us, 
by  the  force  of  sanguine  temperament. 

About  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning,  the  Confederates  opened 
fire  upon  General  Sherman's  division  with  his  artillery,  having 
formed  under  cover  of  the  brush  in  a  low  lying  piece  of  ground, 
and  almost  immediately  afterwards,  the  infantry  pressed  for- 
ward across  the  bottom  and  up  the  slopes  to  the  Federal  lines. 
While  this  advance  was  being  made  on  Sherman's  front,  large 
bodies  of  the  enemy  were  seen  moving  to  the  left  in  heavy 
masses,  to  attack  Prentiss.  The  onset  was  fierce  and  deter- 
mined. Our  men  being  little  prepared  for  the  suddenness  of 
the  movement,  were  taken  at  a  great  disadvantage.  But  they 
rallied  with  a  spirit  of  patriotism  worthy  the  cause  they  de- 
fended, and  for  an  hour  held  their  groimd  bravely,  then  began 


THE  FIRST   day's   BATTLE.  109 

to  o-ive  way.  "\\^caricd,  heated  and  overwhelmed  by  overpow- 
erin<T  numbers,  a  sudden  panic  seized  a  portion  of  the  troops, 
and  two  Ohio  regiments — the  Fifty-third  and  Fifty-seventh, 
broke  in  disorder,  exposing  Waterhouse's  battery,  which  had 
been  protected  by  a  brigade  of  McClerland's  division.  This 
division  had  been  promptly  moved  forward  to  support  Sher- 
man's left,  but  the  enemy's  attack  had  been  so  vigorous,  the 
three  regiments  composing  it  gave  way,  and  the  battery  was 
lost.  The  remainder  of  three  brigades  maintained  their  posi- 
tion for  an  hour  longer,  but  at  ten  o'clock  the  pressure  upon 
Sherman's  front  was  so  heavy,  it  was  found  necessary  to  change 
position  and  he  gave  orders  to  move  his  line  near  McClerland's 
first  position,  there  to  continue  the  defence. 

Sherman's  line  was  now  upon  the  Purdy  and  Hamburg  road, 
and  riding  across  the  angle  at  the  intersection  of  this  road 
with  the  Corinth  road,  General  Sherman  met  Captain  Beher, 
whose  battery  was  attached  to  McDowell's  brigade.  He  or-* 
dered  it  to  come  into  position  immediately,  and  the  gallant  Cap- 
tain wheeled  to  give  the  order  to  his  men.  His  face  was  pallid, 
his  eyes  aglow,  every  nerve  strung  with  a  firm  purpose  as  he 
did  so.  To  him  his  men  looked  eagerly  for  action,  when  just 
as  the  order  was  received,  a  ball  struck  him,  hurling  him  from 
his  horse  to  the  ground.  The  dismayed  drivers  and  gunners 
instantly  fled  panic-stricken,  carrying  with  them  one  gun  and 
a  caisson,  abandoning  the  remaining  six  to  the  enemy.  Here 
was  a  straight,  and  Sherman  was  forced  to  choose  a  new  line 
of  action.  Without  loss  of  time  he  moved  promptly  forward 
the  still  steady  portion  of  his  division  to  the  support  of  General 
McClerland's  right,  then  seriously  menaced  by  the  enemy.  At 
half-past  ten  a  furious  attack  was  made  on  McClerland's  front, 
and  for  sometime,  our  cause  looked  inauspicious ;  but  an  op- 
portune movement  of  McDowell's  brigade  against  the  enemy's 
left  flank,  forced  him  back  much  to  the  rehef  of  the  hardly 
tried  forces.  Sherman  here  took  advantage  of  the  cover  which 
the  trees,  and  a  wooded  ravine  on  the  right  afforded  him,  and 
held  his  position  for  four  hours,  most  determinedly  resisting 


110  A   STOEY    OF   THE   GREAT   EEBELLIOX. 

the  efforts  of  tlie  enemy  to  drive  him  back  to  the  river.  About 
half-past  three  General  Grant  appeared,  and  General  Sherman 
and  General  McClerland  greeted  him  with  anxious  inquiries. 

"  How  is  it  ? "  asked  Sherman,  riding  close  to  his  side  and 
looking  straight  into  the  troubled  eyes  of  his  superior  officer. 

"  Bad,"  was  the  characteristically  blunt  answer.  "  AVe  have 
lost  on  all  sides,  and  our  troops  are  in  lamentable  confusion. 
Resistance  seems  almost  hopeless." 

"But  we  tvill  resist?"  a  fiery  gleam  in  the  piercing  eyes  of 
the  questioner. 

"Yes,  to  the  last.  Wallace  is  on  his  way  from  Crump's 
Landing  with  his  entire  division,  and  we  must  bring  our  line 
of  defense  to  cover  the  bridge  over  Snake  Creek,  that  this  re- 
inforcement may  approach.  Effect  it  with  as  much  order  as 
possible." 

The  change  of  position  was  made  with  a  degree  of  preci- 
sion hardly  to  be  expected  under  the  circumstances.  Many 
fi*agments  of  troops  were  encountered  during  the  movement 
and  united  with  the  two  divisions.  Meantime  Hurlbut  had 
been  too  hardly  pressed  and  had  fallen  back  toward  the  river. 
But  notwithstanding  the  knowledge  of  this,  the  new  line  of 
defense  was  held  stubbornly.  The  troops  rallied  and  fought 
with  exceeding  bravery,  driving  the  enemy  from  McClerland's 
front,  and  forcing  him  back  into  the  ravines  for  cover. 

It  was  growing  late,  but  the  Federal  troops  to  the  right 
now  seemed  to  have  gained  a  decided  advantage,  having  in 
their  front  an  open  space  the  distance  of  two  hundred  yards 
or  more  which  was  not  again  crossed  by  the  enemy.  But  the 
force  of  the  attack  upon  the  left  wing  was  heavy  and  disas- 
trous. General  Prentiss'  two  brigades  had  given  way  early 
in  the  morning  and  drifted  to  the  rear  as  General  Hurlbut 
pressed  forward  to  their  support.  By  ten  o'clock  they  had 
melted  away — the  ground  strewn  with  the  dead — while  many 
brave  men,  prisoners,  were  forced  back  to  the  rear  of  the  con- 
tending rebels.  Among  these,  Captain  Wilfer  stood  listening 
to  the  still  raging  storm  of  battle,  and  longing  impatiently  to 


CAPTAIN   WILFER   TAKEN   PRISONER.  Ill 

be  with  his  little  handful  of  men.  They  had  fallen  around 
him  like  braves,  until  few  were  left ;  but  with  these  he  would 
have  fought  to  the  last  moment  of  life,  had  he  been  permitted. 
To  some,  imprisonment  is  worse  than  death,  and  Captain  Wil- 
fer  thought  as  he  paced  back  and  forth  with  his  hands  bound 
behind  him,  a  guard  upon  each  side,  the  ball  would  have  been 
welcome  that  bi'ought  him  death  rather  than  this. 

"  Oh,  to  hear  the  thunders  of  the  cannon,  and  to  know  that 
they  need  me,  yet  I  cannot  go !  I  must  stand  almost  within 
sound  of  their  voices,  and  never  move  a  finger  to  help  them. 
My  God,  preserve  my  country." 

Up  from  a  strong  man's  soul  went  that  prayer.  Regard- 
less of  those  who  were  around  him,  he  fell  upon  one  knee  and 
lifted  his  flushed  face  upwards.  The  guard  turned  angrily 
and  spurned  him  with  his  foot. 

"  Git  up,  ye  hypocritical  cur,  an  les'  have  none  o'  yer  fool- 
ery. Yer  only  beginning  to  taste  southern  spirit  and  power; 
but  wait!  Every  cussed  Yank  in  the  kingdom  '11  have  to 
come  to  this  yit."  The  young  man  sprang  to  his  feet,  his 
teeth  ground  together  in  impotent  rage. 

"You  may  insult  me,"  he  said,  "I  am  your  prisoner,  bound 
and  helpless,  but  you  cannot  curb  thought,  nor  change  my 
feelings.  Before  to-morrow's  sun  shall  have  set,  you  will 
probably  be  less  insolent  and  assured — ^^if  defeat  can  cow  you. 
As  surely  as  there  is  a  God  to  defend  the  right,  do  I  believe 
he  will  give  us  the  victory." 

"You  shet  up,"  scowled  the  guard  doggedly,  and  hurried 
him  flirther  to  the  rear. 

Stuart's  brigade  had  held  the  extreme  left  of  Smith's  divi- 
sion, until  the  pressure  upon  Its  front,  and  the  exposure  of  Its 
flank  by  the  disaster  to  Prentiss,  compelled  It  to  take  up  new 
lines  of  defense  on  the  ridges  which  rose  brokenly  between 
our  forces  and  the  river.  This  last  position  had  been  held 
unyieldingly  by  our  men  until  after  six  o'clock.  The  battle 
had  been  waged  with  unabated  zeal  on  both  sides  for  twelve 
hours.     Our  troops  had  been  forced  from  all  their  camps  early 


112  A   STORY   OF   THE   GREAT   REBELLION. 

in  the  day  with  the  exception  of  Wallace's  command,  which 
the  enemy  vainly  strove  to  dislodge.  The  reinforcements 
eagerly  hoped  for,  had  not  yet  arrived,  with  the  exception  of 
Nelson's  division  of  the  Army  of  the  Ohio.  They  had  crossed 
the  river  and  come  upon  the  field  of  action  in  time  only  to 
fire  a  few  shots  before  our  forces  were  withdrawn  for  the  night. 

The  scene  they  witnessed  on  landing  was  appalling,  and 
might  well  have  shaken  brave  hearts,  though  it  had  the  effect 
rather  to  shame  and  fire  the  men  with  a  just  indignation  than 
to  discourage  them.  A  crowd  of  nearly  ten  thousand  men 
thronsred  the  landing,  hidins:  behind  trees  and  under  the  bluffs 
to  escajie  the  bursting  of  the  enemy's  shells,  crying  out  to  the 
new  arrivals  that  the  Federal  forces,  had  been  beaten  and  im- 
ploring them  not  to  advance  further.  Soon  a  munnur  ran 
through  the  ranks  of  the  Ohioans,  and  then  sharp  sarcasms 
and  withering  jeers  answered  the  cowardly  appeals,  until  the 
columns  had  gone  beyond  their  hearing. 

After  nightfall  the  rain  began  to  descend  in  torrents,  drench- 
ing the  wearied  troops  as  they  sought  rest  upon  the  field  where 
they  had  fought  so  nobly.  But  they  were  in  good  spirits,  for 
they  knew  that  the  enemy  had  been  repulsed,  and  that  Buell's 
forces  were  arriving.  Wallace's  command  would  come  during 
the  night,  and  when  morning  should  have  dawned  again  the 
fresh  battalions  hurled  against  the  foe,  might  render  their 
victory  complete.  The  gunboat  Lexington  dropped  a  shell 
into  the  Confederate  camp  every  ten  minutes,  untU  after  mid- 
night, when  the  Tyler  reheved  her  and  shelled  it  at  intervals 
of  a  quarter  of  an  hour.  While  those  shells  robbed  the  foe 
of  rest,  they  were  inspiring  to  the  hearts  of  our  gallant  men. 

On  the  morning  of  the  7th  our  connnanders  were  cheered 
by  the  accumulation  of  power  around  them.  The  remainder 
of  Nelson's  command  had  arrived  and  taken  a  position  on  the 
left  front.  Crittenden's  and  McCook's  divisions  followed  suc- 
cessively, and  extending  the  line  to  the  right  connected  with 
Hurlbut's  left.  General  Wallace  came  into  position  on  Sher- 
man's right,  and  they  were  ready  for  action.     But  the  enemy 


now   THE   VICTORY  AT   SHILOII   WAS    WON.  113 

was  out  of  siofht  on  our  front,  and  showed  no  signs  of  an  ad- 
Vance.  General  Grant,  however,  fulfilled  his  promise  to  the 
division  commanders,  and  gave  orders  to  move  forward  and 
drive  the  Confederates  from  the  front.  By  six  o'clock  the 
artillery  was  brought  to  bear  upon  the  left;  and  by  ten,  the 
consolidating  commands  were  warmly  engaged  in  a  contest  for 
the  possession  of  the  old  camps.  With  rising  spirits,  our 
forces  pressed  forward  until  they  reached  the  open  fields  in 
front  of  the  log  church  of  Shiloh.  Here  the  position  of  the 
Confederates  was  a  strong  one,  and  held  stubbornly.  For 
three  hours  they  kept  their  ground,  but  after  that  their  zeal 
began  to  wane,  and  their  weakness  become  too  apparent.  At 
two  o'clock  a  portion  of  Beauregard's  army  was  withdrawn, 
soon  followed  by  the  remainder. 

Thus  was  Shiloh  won!  Shall  we  pause  to  calculate  at 
what  price?  Alas!  too  surely  did  the  scene  upon  that  field 
speak  of  the  appalling  truth  to  the  sad  eyes  that  wandered 
over  it  in  search  of  missing  friends  and  comrades.  The  dead 
were  strewn  thickly  over  the  drenched,  trampled  earth,  amid 
the  ruins  of  artillery,  the  lifeless  remains  of  slain  animals,  the 
broken  and  fallen  timber  mown  down  by  the  showers  of  shot 
and  shell  and  heavy  cannon  balls  that  had  sped  through  the 
trees  and  thickets.  Well  has  Bulwer  said  that  "  death  levels 
all  ranks."  Sadly  was  it  exemplified  on  the  field  of  Shiloh, 
where  friends  and  foes  fell  side  by  side  to  rise  no  more ;  and 
officers  and  men  slept  upon  the  same  lowly  pillow.  Strangely 
moving  scenes  came  under  the  eye,  and  melted  hearts  already 
tender  with  grief.  Wandering  over  a  spot  where  a  certain 
battalion  had  been  hotly  engaged  with  the  enemy,  in  search 
of  a  lost  cousin,  was  a  young  officer  whose  open,  manly  face 
Was  an  index  to  the  character  for  bravery  and  generosity  he 
bore.  He  was  not  ashamed  of  the  tears  that  fell  over  hia 
cheeks  as  he  peered  into  one  pallid  face  after  another,  sealed 
with  that  eternal  silence  which  must  rob  It  of  expression  for- 
ever. Before  one  spot  he  paused  for  several  minutes,  looking 
upon  a  strange  scene.  Near  the  foot  of  a  large  tree  upon  a 
8 


114       A  STORY  OF  THE  GREAT  REBELLION. 

mound,  were  two  men  witli  hands  clasped,  as  they  had  fallen 
in  their  last  struggle.  Both  were  privates,  but  one  wore  ihe 
Confederate  uniform,  while  the  other  was  habited  in  the  Federal 
blue,  with  a  tiny,  brilliant  flag  pinned  to  the  bosom  of  his  coat 
on  the  left  side.  The  two  dead  faces  were  turned  to  the  sky. 
and  the  unmistakable  resemblance  of  feature  proved  them  to 
be  brothers. 

What  a  picture,  and  what  a  story  it  told !  Here  had  been 
a  contest  of  heart,  and  brain,  and  hand.  Here,  brothers 
divided  by  political  feeling  had  met  in  the  storm  of  battle. 
and  in  receiving  their  death  simultaneously  by  one  of  those 
strange  coincidences  for  which  there  is  no  law,  resentment 
had  suddenly  melted,  and,  with  hand  grasped  in  hand,  they 
had  breathed  out  their  hves  together,  reconciled.  Yes,  if  atti- 
tudes can  speak,  theirs  told  the  story  of  reconciliation  and  for- 
giveness— brotherly  love  revived  and  sealed  by  death ! 

A  little  further  on  was  another  sad  picture,  telling  at  r* 
glance  how  great  had  been  a  last  want — ^how  life  had  struggled 
with  death  until  the  latter  had  gained  the  victory.  It  was  a 
youth  with  soft,  sunny  hair  above  an  almost  girlish  brow,  in 
whose  side  a  ball  had  lodged  without  having  caused  instant 
death.  Doubtless  the  intense  suffering  and  the  previous  vio- 
lent excitement  had  caused  a  raging  thirst,  and  he  had  crept 
several  yards,  leaving  a  crimson  trail  as  he  moved  to  where  a 
little  rill  bubbled  along  among  the  bushes.  With  his  left  hand 
he  had  clutched  a  clump  of  alders,  while  with  his  right  he  en- 
deavored to  reach  down  and  fill  his  canteen,  which  fell  from 
his  stiffening  fingers  into  the  edge  of  the  water,  ere  a  drop  had 
touched  his  parched  lips.  Death  came  quickly,  and  he  had 
fallen  with  his  face  downward,  dying  in  agony  as  the  rigid 
features  with  their  contracted  lines  testified.  A  young  officer 
who  looked  upon  this  scene,  here  sat  down  and  covering  his 
face  with  his  hands,  groaned  heavily,  and  said  to  himself, 
"Poor  boy.  A  mother's  heart  would  break  to  see  you  now  I 
Oh,  black  and  bitter  day  to  many.  How  shall  traitors  account 
to  God  for  all  the  misery  they  have  this  day  created.     Oh, 


SACRIFICES   TO   THE   GOD   OF   WAR.  115 

the  pall  they  have  this  day  laid  upon  fond  earthly  hopes !  "Who 
ehull  find  light  that  has  doomed  hundreds  to  walk  in  perpetual 
darkness !  An  hour  ago,  I  was  a  man  and  a  soldier.  Xow  I 
have  grown  womanly  and  cannot  look  upon  such  dreadful 
scenes."  He  sobbed  aloud,  not  caring  who  might  hear  him. 
Some  one  heard  and  called  to  him  from  a  short  distance.  He 
sprang  to  his  feet  at  once,  moving  toward  the  spot  whence  the 
sounds  proceeded  with  rapid  steps.  There  he  found  an  officer 
leaning  against  a  tree,  looking  pale  and  faint.  One  arm  hung 
helpless  at  his  side,  shattered  by  a  ball,  and  he  had  bled  copi- 
ously. With  a  promptness  that  was  rare  under  such  circum- 
stances, the  young  officer  took  his  Avounded  comrade  by  the 
shoulder  and  laid  him  gently  upon  the  ground.  Then  he  tore 
off  his  own  coat  and  put  it  under  his  head  for  a  pillow,  and 
without  waiting  to  utter  a  word  he  started  off  on  a  run  toward 
a  group  of  men  at  some  distance,  who  were  picking  up  the 
woimded.  When  he  came  back  four  of  the  ambulance  corps 
accompanied  him  with  a  litter,  and  the  wounded  officer  w^as 
hfted  upon  it,  and  borne  to  the  tent  of  the  nearest  surgeon. 
It  happened  to  be  the  quarters  of  an  Ilhnois  surgeon  to  which 
he  was  taken,  and  Doctor  Ealer  had  just  finished  amputating 
a  limb,  aided  by  one  or  two  assistants.  He  was  a  young  man 
with  dark  hair,  blue  eyes  and  a  manly  earnest  face.  Sympa- 
thy softened  every  line  of  his  fine  features,  and  he  sighed  au- 
dibly in  turning  to  his  new  patient,  who  had  been  placed  upon 
a  camp  cot,  and  lay  pale  with  pain  before  him. 

"This  arm  must  come  off,"  he  said  regretftdly,  lifting  the 
helpless  hand,  black  wnth  stagnant  blood.  "  Poor  fellow,  his 
right  arm,  too!  It  is  hard  to  deprive  men  of  such  worthy 
members." 

The  wounded  man  unclosed  his  eyes  and  looked  at  him 
steadfastly. 

"There  is  no  hope?" 

"  Xone.  It  is  the  arm  or  the  life  that  must  be  sacrificed. 
Which  shall  it  be  ?  If  I  leave  the  first  it  will  cost  you  the 
second." 


116  A   STORY    OF   THE    GREAT   REBELLION. 

"  Take  the  arm  then.  For  my  young  wife's  sake  I  must 
keep  my  life  if  I  can.  Poor  Helen!  it  will  break  her  heart 
to  see  me  maimed." 

"  It  is  bad,  yet  not  worse  than  the  fat€  of  thousands  on  the 
field  to-day.  I  saw  one  young  fellow  up  there  in  Thayer's 
command,  who  had  both  arms  taken  clean  off  by  the  enemy's 
balls.  One  arm  is  better  than  none,  and  I  am  glad  you  have 
one  left." 

Again  the  officer  closed  his  eyes.  It  was  hard  to  give  up 
that  which  was  so  dear  to  him.  And  what  man  could  resign 
his  strong  right  arm  without  a  bitter  feeling  of  regret  ?  Ma- 
jor Noble  was  not  so  far  above  his  fellows  in  the  scale  of  hu- 
manity as  to  ignore  the  pain  of  the  sacrifice,  to  say  nothing 
of  the  dread  of  physical  suffering  which  belongs  to  human  na- 
ture. And  yet  were  the  same  path  to  be  trodden,  he  knew, 
as  he  lay  there  waiting  for  the  end  of  the  operation,  that  he 
would  run  again  the  same  risks  and  suffer  the  same  conse- 
quences, rather  than  fail  in  his  duty  as  an  officer  and  a  man. 

Doctor  Raler  kept  him  in  his  own  tent,  and  toward  night  a 
high  fever  set  in  followed  by  delirium.  He  called  for  his 
wife  incessantly,  but  the  Doctor  did  not  approve  of  the  idea 
of  bringing  ladies  to  the  field,  and  hoped  soon  to  send  him 
away  where  he  could  get  better  care.  Among  the  multitudi- 
nous duties  which  crowded  upon  him,  he  found  time  only  to 
pen  a  hasty  note  to  Mrs.  Noble  informing  her  that  the  Major 
had  been  wounded  and  was  under  his  own  especial  care ;  but 
that  was  all.  Had  it  reached  her,  dreadful  as  it  was,  it  would 
still  have  been  relief  to  the  torturing  suspense  in  which  she 
lived  from  day  to  day.  Bad  news,  it  is  said,  is  better  than 
none,  and  in  this  case  it  would  have  proved  true.  It  is  silence 
after  danger  which  is  worse  in  its  lingering  torture,  than  the 
first  fierce  blow  which  smites  with  weakness  but  does  not  kill. 


CHAPTER    X. 

GOING    TO    THE    BATTLE-FIELD. 

"I  HAVE  succeeded  at  last,  Helen,  and  engaged  passage  for 
you  up  the  Tennessee  Elver  on  a  boat  sent  from  Cincinnati  for 
the  wounded.  There  is  only  half  an  hour  in  which  to  get 
ready.     Can  you  bear  it?" 

"  Oh  yes,  I  can  bear  anything,  if  I  can  bear  this  awful  sus- 
pense. This  is  Thursday,  and  since  Sunday  no  word  or  line. 
I  wonder  that  I  have  hved.  through  it.  And  now,  if  I  should 
get  there  only  to  find  hmi — " 

She  could  not  speak  the  word,  and  Miss  Harmon  went  to 
her,  lifted  the  poor  wan  face  to  her  bosom  silently,  comfort- 
ing her  with  a  mute  caress.  What  words  could  meet  the  an- 
guish of  an  hour  like  this,  with  healing.  The  long  nights  of 
speechless  pain,  when  the  wife's  steps  fell  ceaselessly  upon  her 
ears— and  the  long  days  vainly  devoted  to  efforts  for  patience 
and  hope,  had  at  last  exhausted  her  powers  of  soothing  by 
words.  The  pall  of  affliction  was  too  heavily  spread  over  the 
sick  heart,  and  she  could  see  that  words  only  tortured  her. 
There  was  nothing  to  be  done  but  to  wait,  and  this  had  been 
a  bitter  task  for  both.  Finally  Mrs.  Noble  grew  wUd  and 
desperate.  Two  days  had  been  spent  in  the  endeavor  to  get 
a  passage  up  the  river  upon  some  passing  boat,  but  all  had 
been  fruitless,  until  the  afternoon  of  the  second  day,  when  she 
succeeded  in  finding  accommodations  for  the  journey.  Every 
effort  had  been  made  in  the  midst  of  crowds  where  men 


118  A   STOEY   OF   THE    GREAT   REBELLION. 

grouped,  clustered  and  stared  at  her.  Sometimes  a  rude  jest 
or  coarse  compliment  reached  her  ear ;  and  those  to  whom  she 
applied  asked  her  needless  and  numberless  questions,  only  to 
detain  her,  and  to  refuse  at  last  that  which  she  persistently 
«ouo-ht.  For  herself  she  could  not  have  borne  all  this.  For 
another  she  could  bear  anything  cheerfully,  if  that  other  was 
a  woman  and  in  affliction.  But  it  is  no  wonder  if  grateful 
tears,  sprang  to  her  eyes  when  at  last  a  kind  man  with  a  gentle 
voice  and  earnest  manner,  bade  her  bring  her  friend  on  board 
and  place  her  under  his  charge,  accompanying  it  with  a 
promise  to  aid  her  all  in  his  power,  to  find  her  husband  when 
they  should  have  reached  the  Landing.  Looking  into  his  face 
she  saw  truth  and  honor  stamped  upon  every  feature,  and  her 
heart  was  liffhtened  of  a  load  of  heaviness.  When  all  ar- 
rangements  had  been  made,  and  Mrs.  Noble  reclined  upon  a 
sofa  in  the  cabin,  Astrea  stooped  to  kiss  her  forehead. 

"God  be  with  you,"  she  murmured.  "I  must  leave  you 
now."     Helen  clung  to  her  hand. 

"I  cannot  go  without  you!     Come  with  me." 

Astrea  looked  up  and  saw  the  kind  old  gentleman  near  them, 
gazing  compassionately  at  the  pleading  face  of  the  young  wife. 
He  bowed  affirmatively. 

"You  had  better  go,"  he  said  in  a  low  voice.  "She  will 
need  you  to  sustain  her." 

A  second  look  at  the  sufferer's  face,  and  a  thought  of  what 
might  be  her  fate  when  she  reached  the  battle-field,  decided 
Astrea  in  her  course.  Her  trunk  was  always  packed  for  re- 
moval at  any  moment  and  she  now  sent  for  it,  at  the  same  time 
penning  a  line  to  the  matron  at  the  hospital  informing  her  of 
the  cause  of  her  absence. 

Long  and  weary  hours  were  those  which  followed.  Mrs. 
Noble  had  exhausted  her  strength  at  first  by  the  violence  of  her 
distress,  and  with  her  face  buried  in  the  pillows  of  the  sofa, 
would  lie  all  day  long  like  one  in  a  trance,  save  at  times  when  ex- 
cessive fear  gave  her  unnatural  strength,  and  she  would  give 
vent  to  the  most  touching  expressions  of  suffering.     So  the  first 


MAKING   NEW   ACQUAINTANCES.  119 

afternoon  and  the  second  day  passed.  At  twilight  of  the  second 
day's  journey  up  the  river,  Astrea  was  seated  beside  her,  hold- 
ing one  hand,  while  silently  studying  the  faces  of  those  around 
her.  She  had  said  but  little,  feeling  too  much  depressed  for 
conversation  with  strangers ;  but  it  was  natural  to  make  mental 
estimates  of  character,  measuring  the  worth  of  the  man  or 
woman  by  the  outward  appearance,  coupled  with  words  and 
actions  which  without  being  known  to  any  but  the  observer, 
never  fail  to  give  an  insight  into  the  true  character  of  the  per- 
son observed.  There  were  two  ladies  from  Cincinnati,  a  Mrs. 
and  Miss  Bache,  mother  and  daughter,  who  had  volunteered 
to  assist  in  giving  aid  to  the  wounded.  Everything  about 
them  indicated  their  high  position  in  society.  They  were  evi- 
dently ladies  of  refinement  and  culture ;  yet  there  was  some- 
thing repulsive  in  the  manner  of  both — a  self-consciousness 
amounting  almost  to  arrogance,  and  an  arbitrary  desire  to  bend 
one  and  all  before  them  to  their  own  will  and  wishes,  which 
was  galling  to  those  who  perceived  it.  The  daughter  had  her 
mother's  blue  eyes  and  auburn  hair,  fair  round  cheek  and  deli- 
cate mouth,  with  a  voice  low  and  clear,  and  a  bearing  easy 
and  natural.  Only  the  haughty  willfulness  of  look,  and  the 
pleased  glance  when  a  circle  closed  around  her,  betrayed  the 
disagreeable  traits  in  her  character. 

There  were  also  three  surgeons — two  from  Cincinnati  and 
one  from  Covington.  In  these  three  Miss  Harmon  discovered 
the  elements  of  kindness  above  all  other  traits.  Doctor  Vat- 
tier  had  been  noted  for  his  benevolence,  and  it  Avas  the  custom 
of  his  fellow-citizens  to  send  people  in  especial  need  to  him, 
telling  them  secretly  to  withhold  their  names  in  the  matter, 
but  never  to  fear  being  turned  away  without  sympathy  and 
aid.  This  memory  had  come  to  Astrea  when  she  heard  his 
name,  and  she  looked  Avith  keener  interest  at  ^he  quiet  pale 
face,  and  light  blue  eyes.  His  grey  hair  added  a  greater 
charm  to  his  expression,  by  making  it  more  placid.  It  was  a 
pleasant  face  to  look  at.  This  was  the  man  who  had  met  her 
so  kindly  at  the  first,  and  whose  influence  had  obtained  for 


120       A  STORY  OF  THE  GREAT  REBELLION. 

them  comfortable  passage.  Doctor  Blackman  was  larger,  more 
robust  in  form,  with  heavy  black  hair  just  sprinkled  with  sil- 
ver, and  a  keen  black  eye  that  flashed  everywhere,  seeing 
everything.  He  was  generous  to  a  fault,  but  quick  tempered 
and  exceedingly  excitable.  Added  to  this,  a  very  sympathetic 
and  sensitive  temperament,  served  to  make  up  such  a  charac- 
ter as  we  meet  daily,  and  Hke  well,  yet  seldom  appreciate  fully, 
because  of  our  own  inability  to  make  allowance  for  those 
qualities  which  cannot  be  separated  from  them  and  with  which 
we  cannot  have  patience.  Had  it  not  been  a  well  known  fact 
that  men  make  mistakes  in  their  vocations  the  world  over, 
Miss  Harmon  would  have  wondered  that  this  man  had  chosen 
surgery  as  a  profession.  She  did  wonder  when  Doctor  Vat- 
tier  told  her  that  he  had  a  reputation  for  skill  above  any  other 
surgeon  in  the  West.  He  had  regarded  Mrs.  Noble  and  her- 
self frequently,  with  apparent  interest  but  had  made  no  ad- 
vance toward  acquaintance,  seeing  the  helplessness  of  the  one, 
and  the  taciturnity  of  the  other.  Sympathy  was  in  every 
look ;  if  he  had  not  expressed  it,  the  reason  lay  in  his  respect 
for  their  feelings  and  wishes  to  shun  intrusion. 

The  third  physician.  Doctor  Clarke  of  Covington,  was  a 
slender,  spare  man  with  black  eyes  and  hair — an  active  viva- 
cious soul  that  kept  all  its  froth  on  the  surface,  hiding  its 
depths.  He  laughed,  jested  and  paced  up  and  down  the  cabin 
with  his  hands  locked  behind  him.  His  fund  of  anecdote  was 
inexhaustible,  and  his  stories  without  number.  The  other  la- 
dies regarded  him  with  ill  concealed  dislike ;  seeing  no  deeper 
than  the  surface,  and  they  could  not,  or  would  not  credit  him 
for  a  sterling  worth  deserving  of  respect.  They  voted  him 
heartless  and  unfeeling;  criticised  his  light  conversation  and 
careless  ways  mercilessly. 

If  Astrea  made  no  affirmative  response  to  their  censure,  it 
was  because  she  was  not  ready  to  pass  judgment  without  fur- 
ther study.  Her  interest  was  positive.  She  felt  as  if  it  would 
be  pleasant  to  know  whether  they  or  she  were  right  in  their 
impressions.     In  his  society  more  than  any  other,  was  a  young 


PAINFUL   SUSPENSE   AND   FOREBODINGS.  121 

EnfTlIsliman  Avho  had  obtained  permission  to  visit  the  battle- 
field, claiming  to  have  been  a  student  of  medicine,  and  who 
had  offered  himself  as  an  assistant.  His  services  were  ac- 
cepted, and  he  was  going  in  that  capacity,  well  pleased  to  have 
been  allowed  the  privilege.  He  was  rather  short  and  heavy, 
with  fair  hair  and  side  whiskers,  a  fearless  blue  eye  and  intel- 
ligent expression,  generally — talked  with  ease  and  confidence, 
as  one  well  assured  of  his  own  ground,  and  sufficiently  strong 
to  maintain  it.  Wherever  he  took  a  position  it  was  with  the 
will  to  hold  it,  whatever  opposing  power  might  be  brought 
against  him.  When  Doctor  Vattier  casually  remarked  upon 
this  trait  to  Miss  Harmon,  her  beautiful  lip  slightly  curled 
with  an  irrepressible  show  of  feeling  as  she  answered : 

"Since  he  is  an  Englishman  it  would  be  surprising  if  he 
lacked  in  self-esteem." 

Doctor  Vattier  laughed  and  made  no  reply,  for  the  gentle- 
man was  too  near  them  to  render  personal  remarks  safe ;  so 
the  subject  dropped  then,  to  be  resumed  later.  When  it  had 
grown  too  dark  for  Astrea  to  pursue  her  study  of  faces  fur- 
ther, her  gaze  went  back  to  Mrs.  Noble's  careworn  features, 
lying  against  the  cushions  with  the  pallor  of  death  upon  them. 
Lights  had  not  yet  been  brought,  according  to  the  request  of 
Miss  Bache,  so  she  could  but  dimly  see  the  drooping  of  the 
dark  lashes  over  her  friend's  white  cheeks ;  or  the  weary  ex- 
pression about  the  sweet  mouth.  While  she  gazed  in  silent 
sympathy,  Helen  stirred,  clasped  closer  the  hand  that  held 
her  own  and  drew  Astrea  nearer  to  her  side.  Gradually  the 
cabin  had  been  cleared  of  nearly  all  the  passengers.  Miss 
Bache  reclined  in  a  chair  too  far  down  to  hear  what  they 
might  say,  and  her  mother  had  gone  to  her  room.  Doctor  Vat- 
tier and  Doctor  Blackman  had  mounted  to  the  upper  deck, 
while  the  others  sauntered  about,  leaving  only  our  friends  with 
the  young  Englishman  and  Miss  Bache  in  the  cabin. 

"Astrea,"  began  Mrs.  Noble  with  an  effort  for  calmness. 
"Do  you  know  I  have  fearful  forebodings  of  what  is  to 
come?" 


122  A   STORY   OF   THE    GREAT   REBELLIOX. 

"  You  mean  that  you  fear  to  find  your  husband  has  not  es- 
caped with  life  from  this  terrible  battle?" 

"  Yes,  that  and  other  things.  These  long  days  and  nights 
have  been  so  horrible!  Then  the  thouo-ht  of  trenches  in 
which  friends  and  foes  are  heaped  indiscriminately,  as  that 
man  said  to  me  at  Paducah,  has  almost  driven  me  mad. 
While  I  have  lain  here,  trying  to  be  still  and  wait,  my  brain 
has  been  on  fire,  and  I  think  now — if  I  should  find  that  God 
has  taken  my  husband  from  me,  I  can  never  be  a  good  and 
patient  woman  again.  I  was  willing  to  give  him  to  his  coun- 
try for  manly  service,  but  not  to  die.  I  trusted  God  for  his 
salvation;  hoping  and  believing  that  he  would  be  spared,  I 
have  been  cheerful  and  willing  to  do  all  in  my  power.  Now 
if  I  find  my  trust  has  been  vain,  I  shall  never  have  faith  again, 
and  through  all  my  miserable  life  I  shall  wander  desolate  and 
loubting.  Think  how  horrible  that  would  be — without  faith, 
obbed  of  hope  and  love  and  light  and  life ! " 

"  How  will  it  be  if  you  find  him  wounded,  or  that  he  has 
been  taken  prisoner?     The  latter  may  have  been  his  fate." 

"  If  wounded,  I  can  nurse  him  back  to  health,  and  will  feel 
humbly  grateful  for  his  dear  life.  If  imprisoned,  then  the 
torture  of  suspense  will  go  on  until  he  can  be  exchanged. 
The  thought  of  those  fearful  southern  prisons  fills  me  with 
horror  and  unspeakable  distress.  To  know  him  in  one,  would 
nearly  drive  me  mad." 

"Try  not  to  think  of  it,  then.  You  know  all  things  are 
probable  in  time  of  war,  and  the  soldier's  fate  is  death,  im- 
prisonment or  wounds,  more  possible  than  escape  from  them 
altogether.  I  will  hope  in  spite  of  the  silence  which  caused 
us  so  much  distress,  that  it  may  not  be  so  bad  as  you  fear. 
You  must  try  to  rise  above  these  feelings,  and  regain  strength. 
If  you  should  find  him  in  need  of  your  aid,  it  would  be  im- 
possible to  render  it  to  him  in  your  present  condition." 

"  Only  assure  me  that  he  is  alive,  and  I  can  do  anything.  Oh, 
it  is  the  fear  within  me  which  keeps  me  prostrate.  His  loss 
would  lose  me  all  the  joys  of  earth — all  my  hopes  of  heaven." 


PAINFUL    SUSPENSE   AND   FOREBODINGS.  123 

"  Child,  are  you  mad  to  talk  so  rebelliously  ?  Do  you  place 
your  husband  before  your  God  in  your  atfections?  This  is 
all  wrong." 

"I  know  it,  but  I  can  no  more  help  it  than  I  can  still  the 
ceaseless  yearning  for  comfort  which  nothing  but  the  assurance 
of  his  life  can  give.  I  have  prayed  as  woman  never  prayed  for 
patience  and  strength  to  bear  my  burden,  as  others,  oh,  so  many 
others,  must  bear  theirs  from  this  time  forth.  I  have  thought 
of  every  possible  thing,  and  tried  to  school  myself  for  the 
very  worst;  and  yet  I  know  if  I  find  myself  uttei'ly  bereft, 
that  I  have  not  enough  of  His  divine  love  to  give  me  submis- 
sion  to  His  will.  A  fierce  rebellion  will  rise  within  me,  and  I 
may  grow  mad  enough  to  cast  back  the  life  which  He  has  made 
worthless,  since  I  cannot  have  to  bless  me  one  that  is  dearer. 
This  is  a  dreadful  frame  of  mind.  If  I  could  get  out  of  it  I 
would,  but  I  cannot." 

Astrea  bowed  her  head,  an  earnest  prayer  in  her  heart.  It 
was  very  difficult  to  know  how  best  to  answer  such  a  confes- 
sion and  remove  such  a  phase  of  feeling,  most  effectually. 

At  this  moment  the  lamps  were  lighted,  and  Doctor  Clarke 
entering  the  cabin,  took  a  seat  near  them  with  a  book  in  his 
hand.  Presently  Doctor  Vattier  followed,  and  Astrea  saw 
him  make  a  sign  in  answer  to  one  from  the  younn;  Eno-lishman. 
A  moment  later,  he  came  to  her  and  asked  permission  to  in- 
troduce the  latter. 

"He  is  your  guest  and  I  cannot  refuse,"  she  answered  with 
great  reluctance. 

"That  is  scarcely  to  be  considered  a  gracious  permission," 
he  smiled,  "  still  I  accept  it,  for  I  think  it  best  to  have  you  less 
to  yourself  than  hitherto." 

As  he  said  this  he  glanced  at  Mrs.  Noble.  Astrea  bowed  and 
he  withdrew.     In  a  moment  he  came  back  with  the  stranger. 

"Mr.  Meridan,  Miss  Harmon."  Both  bowed,  and  Mr. 
Meridan  took  a  chair  in  front  of  her.  She  moved  her  o^\'n 
seat  so  as  to  screen  Mrs.  Noble's  face  from  his  sight,  and 
waited  for  him  to  begin  conversation.     Seeming  perfectly  at 


124       A  STORY  OF  THE  GREAT  REBELLION. 

ease,  he  began  as  with  an  old  acquaintance.  "I  hav*  been 
admiring  your  beautiful  country,  Miss  Harmon,  more  than  I 
can  well  express.  There  is  such  a  great  variety  of  scenery, 
one  can  never  weary  of  it.  Like  a  vast  panorama,  as  we  glide 
by,  it  seems  to  move,  presenting  to  the  eye  new  beauty  at  every 
moment.  I  have  now  been  nearly  a  year  in  America,  and  am 
daily  seeing  something  new.  I  am  in  love  with  it  already ;  if 
I  stay  here  much  longer,  it  will  make  me  a  traitor  to  my  native 
land,  and  win  me  to  itself  for  hfe,  this  strange,  mixed  exasper- 
ating America." 

"  Why  exasperating  ?  " 

"Because  of  its  social  codes  mainly.  The  classes  are  not 
set  apart  with  sufficient  distinction,  and  the  gentlest  blood  in 
the  land  must  mate  with  the  meanest  if  there  is  money  to  back 
the  clown  in  his  assumption  of  a  gentleman's  position.  Our 
system  of  education  is  different.  The  lowly  cannot  rise  above 
their  station,  and  know  their  place  too  well  to  attempt  it.  Here 
any  man  who  wills  it,  may  be  a  king — of  a  sort." 

"And  why  not,  if  nature  has  endowed  him  with  kingly 
power,  rising  within  himself?  I  am  a  true  American,  ]\Ir. 
Meridan,  and  hold  those  in  highest  respect  who  have  abilities 
to  Hft  themselves  above  the  misfortunes  of  low  birth  and  pov- 
erty and  ignorance,  to  position,  wealth  and  knowledge." 

"  They  have  not  knowledge ;  that  is  the  worst  of  it.  Not 
one  out  of  every  fifty  of  your  wealthy  men,  is  a  cultivated  man. 
They  start  out  with  a  desire  to  get  rich,  and  labor  to  that  end 
until  they  realize  the  fulfillment  of  their  desires.  When  they 
are  so  inflated  with  success  that  they  think  themselves  the 
smartest  men  living,  and  entitled  to  the  highest  respect  and 
honor,  they  will  tell  you  of  their  struggles  with  poverty; 
regale  you  with  innumerable  histories  of  toil,  losses,  misfor- 
tunes and  sufferings,  from  the  first  start  in  life  upwards,  and 
then  boast  of  their  lack  of  education.  Their  libraries  are 
filled  with  books  of  which  they  know  nothing ;  their  walls 
hung  with  pictures  of  which  they  cannot  judge  the  real  value 
beyond  the  cost  in  dollars  and  cents.      And  yet  these  men 


SOCIETY   FROM   DIFFERENT   STAND-POINTS.  125 

have  thrown  open  to  them  the  best  saloons  of  the  land,  and 
they  are  made  welcome  among  the  most  aristocratic  members 
of  society,  because  their  purses  are  large,  and  their  bank  credit 
indisputable.  Do  you  think  this  just  as  it  should  be?  If 
tliey  must  be  admitted  to  society,  would  it  not  be  better  if  they 
could  first  prepare  themselves  by  a  decent/ polish  at  least?" 

"  Must  a  man  wait  to  the  end  of  his  days  for  the  reward  of 
hU  labor?  Many  are  old  before  they  can  amass  wealth,  and 
it  has  passed  beyond  their  power  to  become  polished  and  re- 
fined. Old  habits  are  too  strong  upon  them.  Knowing  this, 
they  avail  themselves  of  the  privileges  of  a  democratic  land, 
and  strive  to  enjoy  their  gains  as  well  as  they  can." 

"  Would  it  not  be  better  if  they  could  be  content  with  less 
in  gold  and  store  their  minds  with  more  of  knoAvledge  ?  " 

"  Doubtless,  but  money  making  has  an  incalculable  fascina- 
tion. I  find  it  a  passion  not  only  with  Americans,  but  the 
French,  Germans,  Italians  and  Englishmen  who  make  their 
way  to  us,  are  generally  seized  with  the  same  desire,  and  often 
outstrip  us  in  the  golden  harvest.  We  are  a  strange  people, 
because  of  the  strange  mixture  of  national  characteristics. 
Our  avenues  of  trade  are  open  to  all,  and  the  one  monopolizes 
an  avocation  to  success  who  is  most  capable  of  using  his  priv- 
ileges. He  serves  well  for  his  claim  upon  society,  and  earns 
it,  whether  we  yield  it  to  him  graciously  or  not.  You  will 
see  that  I  own  a  partiality  for  'self-made  men.'" 

"  Evidently,  and  it  puzzles  me,  for  you  are  cultivated  your- 
self, and  one  would  suppose  might  naturally  shrink  from 
coarseness  and  ignorance!" 

"Mr.  Meridan,  the  rude  and  honest  simplicity  of  the  labor- 
ing man  is  not  coarseness  in  my  eyes,  and  I  must  esteem  those 
who  have  good  and  noble  qualities  of  heart,  whether  high  or 
low  in  position.  After  all,  the  quality  of  the  heart  and  mind 
make  the  man  to  honor.  If  it  is  not  good,  his  millions  will 
not  win  from  a  true  man  or  woman  sincere  respect,  even  if  he 
has  education  and  a  certain  polish  called  refinement,  which 
passes  him  with  the  world  of  fashion,  irreproachable." 


126  A   STOKY   OF   THE   GREAT  KEBELLIOX. 

Here  Mr.  Merldan  paused  before  speaking,  and  looked  at  her. 

*'Do  all  native  American  ladies  reason  as  you  do?  Have 
each  and  all  of  you  such  decided  opinions  as  yours  on  the  vari- 
ous subjects  which  excite  discussion?" 

"If  they  have  not,  they  should  have.  Surely,  if  we  are 
women,  we  should  not  be  excluded  from  the  right  of  thinking 
for  ourselves — especially  since  it  is  our  lot,  as  a  sex,  to  give 
the  first  bias  and  impression  to  the  mind  of  lordly  man." 

"Ah,  you  are  sarcastic.  Perhaps  you  are  a  'woman's 
rights'  woman." 

"No,  not  in  the  sense  the  term  suggests.  A  woman's 
greatest  power  and  beauty  lies  in  her  thorough  womanliness. 
"When  she  departs  from  that,  she  becomes  unnatural,  and  must 
lose  respect,  consequently  her  influence  for  good.  I  am  not  a 
native  American,  however." 

"From  whence  do  you  come?" 

"England.  America  is  my  dear  home  by  adoption.  All 
that  I  have  known  of  joy  or  pain,  good  or  ill,  has  been  on  her 
soil.  She  has  sheltered  me,  comforted  me,  loved  me,  and  I 
am  grateful — will  be  faithful.  It  shames  me  when  I  remember 
that  Eng-lishmen  have  come  to  this  fair  land  and  shared  her 
privileges,  received  the  fruits  of  her  sojl,  Uved  under  her  laws 
safely  and  happily,  only  to  turn  their  backs  upon  all  in  the 
moment  of  her  danger.  Had  I  been  a  man,  I  could  sooner 
have  faced  a  whole  battalion  of  the  enemy,  than  to  have  ap- 
pealed to  the  English  Consul  for  protection  from  the  draft !  It 
was  a  burning  shame  to  me  which  I  shall  never  forget." 

INIr.  ]Mcridan  winced  and  looked  grave.  A  smile  had  gone 
around  the  little  circle,  and  he  did  not  relish  what  it  expressed. 

"  It  certainly  is  to  be  regretted,"  he  said,  after  some  thought ; 
"  but  those  who  have  done  so,  had  their  own  private  reasons, 
and  good  ones,  doubtless." 

"Yes,  good  enough  for  them,  since  they  were  not  noble 
enough  to  act  without  the  most  utter  selfishness.  They  wanted 
her  gold,  her  lands,  her  offices  of  honor  and  her  protection  in 
prosperity,  but  they  did  not  want  to  fight  for  her  in  her  trouble, 


TRUTHS  PLAINLY  SPOKEN.  127 

and  would  escape  it  by  such  a  contemptible  appeal.  I  know 
of  only  one  class  of  jjcople  worthy  to  be  placed  in  the  same 
catalogue." 

""Which  class  do  you  mean?" 

"Copperheads!  I  have  seen  men  who  were  rebels,  deep 
and  bitter  at  heart,  denying  their  politics,  sheltering  them- 
selves under  the  Federal  Government,  and  speculating  upon 
Government  Avares  for  gold.  Such  men  deserve  only  con- 
tempt and  scorn,  and  I  could  sooner  give  my  hand  in  ac- 
knowledged amity  to  an  open  rebel,  than  to  tolerate  the  pres- 
ence of  a  copperhead." 

"Eight,"  cried  Doctor  Blackman,  slapping  Mr.  Meridan  on 
the  shoulder  lightly.  "  I  agree  with  the  lady  in  all  the  grounds 
she  has  taken,  and  the  last  especially.  I  think  I  should  want 
to  shoot  my  grandmother  if  she  Avas  one  of  that  vile  set. 
Madam,  pardon  me,  but  may  I  ask  where  you  were  reared?" 

"  In  the  South,  surrounded  by  slaves,  and  educated  in  the 
midst  of  Southern  Institutions." 

"  Then  how  does  it  happen  that  you  are  not  a  rebel  yourself?  " 

"I  could  not  see  things  in  the  same  light,  and  in  differing, 
cut  myself  off  from  my  early  life  and  associations  as  fully  as 
if  the  grave  had  closed  over  me.  I  never  believed  slavery  to 
be  right,  and  secession  was  with  me  out  of  the  question.  In 
the  midst  of  the  hot-headed  and  excited  masses  I  was  not 
likely  to  pass  unscathed,  with  such  sentiments  as  it  was  known 
I  cherished.     The  result  is  my  presence  here." 

"  Why,  your  history  must  be  quite  a  romantic  one,"  began 
Mr.  INIeridan ;  when  Miss  Harmon  spoke  quickly : 

"  Yes,  sir,  but  I  must  be  excused  if  I  decline  to  relate  more 
for  the  benefit  of  strangers.  It  is  enough  that  I  am  homeless 
and  friendless,  having  nothing  left  but  a  desire  to  serve  my 
country  as  a  woman  may." 

Mr.  Meridan  bowed  apologetically,  and  soon  after  withdrew, 
feeling  his  presence  distasteful  to  her.  Doctor  Vattier  followed 
and  took  his  arm. 

"  A  rather  positive  character,"  he  said  as  they  paced  the 


128  A   STOUT   OF   THE   GEEAT   EEBELLIOX. 

lower  cabin  slowly.  "  To  look  at  her  face  one  would  not  ex- 
pect to  find  independence  and  courage  like  hers." 

"I  do  not  know;  we  should  not  too  readily  deceive  our- 
selves. Certainly  the  face  is  very  youthful,  but  strong  not- 
withstanding. She  may  prove  dangerous,  and  I  would  advise 
you  to  watch  her." 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

"  Simply  that  there  have  been  such  things  as  spies  in  times 
of  war,  who  wore  feminine  apparel  and  used  beautiful  faces  as 
passports  to  places  where  knowledge  was  most  valuable.  Sup- 
pose she  should  prove  one  of  this  kind?  I  would  not  cast 
suspicion  unjustly  upon  any  woman,  but  she  would  alarm  me 
if  I  was  a  commander  in  your  army,  and  she  should  come 
much  about  me.     You  know  nothing  about  her." 

"  Enough  to  claim  for  her  the  respect  and  honor  all  brave, 
true  women  deserve.  I  cannot  permit  you  to  shake  the  confi- 
dence of  others  in  her  integrity,  while  she  is  under  my  pro- 
tection. One  moment's  thought  ought  to  prove  to  you  the 
impi-obability  of  such  an  idea.  What  could  she  learn  from 
us,  or  how  from  us  reach  the  enemy  with  any  information  that 
might  prove  valuable  ?  You  will  pardon  me  for  the  frankness, 
but  I  fear  that  a  personal  feeling  of  resentment  is  at  the  bot- 
tom of  your  desire  to  lower  her  in  my  esteem.  It  is  not  gen- 
erous or  manly." 

"  Doctor  Vattier,  I  beg  of  you  not  to  think  so  ill  of  me  as  that ! 
The  thought  I  spoke  arose  only  from  an  honest  belief  that 
what  I  suo-srested  might  be  true.  I  am  not  so  mean  as  to  re- 
taliate  upon  a  woman  by  injuring  her  reputation  for  loyalty." 

The  young  man's  brow  had  flushed  hotly.  "Then  let  it 
pass.  I  have  not  the  slightest  suspicion  of  the  possibility  of 
such  a  thing,  and  could  not  stoop  to  watch  her,  even  if  I  had, 
knowing  how  powerless  she  is.  I  wonder  how  we  are  pro- 
gressing?" Thus  abruptly  cutting  short  the  conversation,  the 
Doctor  stepped  outside  and  peered  through  the  gloom  at  the 
shore,  lying  in  a  dark,  rugged  line  against  a  somber  sky.  Mr. 
Meridan  feeling  anything  but  pleased,  mounted  to  the  hurri- 


AT  PITTSBURG   LANDING.  129 

cane  deck,  and  with  a  cigar  between  his  lips  threw  himself 
upon  a  bench  and  strove  to  soothe  his  disagreeable  feelings. 

The  day  following  his  stubborn  pride  forced  him  to  seek 
Miss  Harmon's  society.  It  should  not  be  thought  that  he  was 
afraid  of  her,  so  he  broached  any  topic  that  promised  interest, 
and  found  himself  well  entertained  in  the  fresh,  original  ideas, 
which  were  always  expressed  readily,  but  never  with  arrogance 
or  an  undue  importance  to  her  own  views.  Very  soon  he 
found  himself  wondering  at  her  varied  fund  of  information, 
and  the  evident  study  she  had  given  to  most  of  the  subjects 
introduced.  The  smart  of  last  nio-ht's  encounter  had  not  lasted 
long  enough  to  occasion  any  very  deep-seated  dislike ;  but  if 
it  had  done  so,  it  must  have  melted  under  to-day's  more  genial 
warmth.  As  the  hours  glided  by,  he  constantly  wandered 
away  as  if  in  search  of  change  in  occupation,  but  always  came 
back  to  where  she  sat  beside  her  friend,  as  one  drawn  irre- 
sistibly by  a  new  and  fascinating  power.  Astrea  experienced 
but  little  interest  in  his  society,  yet  felt  it  due  to  herself  to 
maintain  her  position  steadily,  as  he  appeared  disposed  indi- 
rectly to  attack  her.  At  least  she  looked  upon  his  advances 
in  that  hght,  and  was  constantly  prepared  for  them.  She  had 
another  reason,  also,  for  encouraging  his  advances,  when  she 
observed  that  Mrs.  Noble  had  thrown  oif  the  languor,  which 
had  prostrated  her,  and  listened  with  unmistakable  interest  to 
what  they  said. 

Toward  the  close  of  the  afternoon  on  Saturday,  quite  a  little 
stir  was  perceptible  among  the  surgeons  and  their  assistants. 
It  was  reported  that  they  were  nearing  the  Landing,  and  then 
Helen  grew  strong  and  restless  under  the  excitement.  Heed- 
less of  Astrea's  entreaties  to  be  calm,  she  passed  from  the 
cabin  to  her  state-room,  and  from  that  to  the  guards  and  back 
again,  unable  to  remain  still  for  a  moment.  Her  eyes  shone 
like  stars,  while  her  cheeks  burned  with  a  bright  spot  in  the 
center  of  each.  There  was  not  one  on  board  w'ho  could  look 
without  pity  on  the  poor  young  wife,  thus  writhin^^  under  the 
anguish  which  was  consuminjj  her. 
9 


130       A  STORY  OF  THE  GREAT  REBELLIOX. 

"How  can  I  wait?  How  can  I  wait?  Oh,  my  God,  be 
merciful!" 

Astrea  stood  at  her  side  just  beyond  the  door,  and  heard 
the  passionate  murmur  with  starting  tears.  The  setting  sun 
just  touched  them  both,  tinging  the  pale  face  with  a  golden 
radiance  and  adding  strange  lustre  to  the  strained,  anguished 
eyes.     Softly  one  arm  stole  around  the  quivering  form. 

"Helen,"  very  tenderly,  "words  are  meaningless  to  a  heart 
tried  like  yours;  but  I  believe  in  God's  goodness  and  I  am 
praying  for  you  all  the  time." 

"Heaven  bless  you!  faithftil  Mend.  You  are  far  better 
than  I,  and  He  may  hear  you  kindly.  I  feel  myself  too 
wicked  for  prayers  now." 

Her  head  sank  to  Astrea's  shoulder,  and  she  stood  quietly 
looking  at  the  shore  as  they  passed,  for  several  minutes.  The 
sun  went  behind  the  hills,  and  the  gray  twilight  crept  over 
the  earth ;  the  boat  steamed  on  against  the  current  with  heavy, 
monotonous  clamor;  and  finally  after  a  weary  and  tedious 
journey,  our  friends  saw  them  tie  up  under  the  bluffs  at 
Pittsburg  Landing. 


CHAPTER    XL 

INCIDENTS    AND    HORRORS    OF   A    BATTLE-FIELD. 

A  FULL  moon  had  risen,  and  the  stars  shone  brightly  from 
a  clear  blue  sky.  The  silvery  radiance  was  spread  over  a 
strange  scene,  wild  and  sickening  to  those  who  looked  upon  it 
from  the  deck  of  the  Lancaster.  Across  the  river  gleamed 
the  red  lights  of  the  gunboats,  whose  long  dark  lengths  were 
distinctly  outlined  upon  the  water.  Towering  above  the  Lan- 
caster, were  the  bluffs,  dark  and  forbidding.  Above  and 
beyond  them  gleamed  the  camp  fires  of  our  soldiers,  while 
upon  both  sides  of  the  boat  as  it  lay  in  position  directly  front- 
ing the  bluffs,  were  other  vessels  upon  whose  decks  crowds 
passed  to  and  fro  continually.  The  noise  and  confusion  was 
great;  the  mud  so  deep  that  the  poor  laboring  animals  used 
to  draw  freight  from  the  steamers  to  the  top  of  the  bluffs, 
could  scarcely  move  their  burdens.  Hoarse  cries  and  curses, 
mingled  with  the  cracking  of  whips,  and  occasional  bursts  of 
laughter,  filled  the  air.  Here  the  leaves  had  already  put  forth 
their  tender  green,  and  the  rosebuds  bloomed  profusely  along 
the  bank  of  the  stream.  The  faint,  sweet  breath  of  early 
flowers  floated  to  them  over  the  noisome  places  where  the  dead 
still  lay  unburied.  Mrs.  Noble  shuddered  and  covered  her 
face  with  her  hands,  unable  to  look  longer  at  the  mocking 
beauty  of  the  night  over  such  horrors.  Astrea  sickened  but 
would  not  turn  her  eyes  from  the  spot  where  a  dozen  figures 
lay  distinctly  outlined. 


132  A   STORY    OF   THE   GREAT   REBELLION. 

"Surely,"  she  said  to  Mr.  Merldan  who  stood  near  her, 
"those  men' have  not  lain  there  until  now — since  the  battle!" 

"  O,  no.  I  presume  thej  are  the  rebel  wounded  who  died 
since  the  battle.  We  must  not  forget  all  that  the  Federalists 
have  had  to  do  since  that  time.  The  health  of  the  army  de- 
mands that  the  dead  should  be  buried  as  soon  as  possible.  By 
to-morrow  morning  they  will  have  disappeared." 

Mrs.  Noble's  hand  at  this  time  closed  on  Astrea's  arm  so 
hard  as  to  give  her  absolute  pain. 

"  Doctor  Blackman  is  coming !  He  has  been  to  make  in- 
quiries for  me." 

As  he  approached,  she  trembled  violently.  Astrea's  heart 
gave  a  great  throb  of  delight  with  the  first  cheery  ring  of  his 
voice. 

"Mrs.  Noble,  it  will  be  utterly  impossible  to  get  ashore  to- 
night. The  mud  is  almost  impassable  in  daylight,  and  there 
are  roads  only  where  one  can  be  made.  But  I  have  just  met 
the  very  man  of  all  others  most  fortunate  to  see,  for  Major 
Noble  is  at  his  tent  and  has  been  under  his  care  since  receiv- 
ing his  wound.  He  reports  him  doing  pretty  well  now, 
though  he  has  had  rather  a  hard  time  of  it." 

She  scarcely  heard  the  last  part  of  the  sentence.  With 
a  low  cry  she  sank  to  her  knees  and  lifted  to  the  starry  sky  a 
white  face  wet  with  penitential  tears,  murmuring  brokenly : 

"  My  God  I  thank  thee — I  am  not  worthy  of  his  dear  life-' 
yet  thou  hast  spared  him  to  me — the  faithless  one !  My  hus 
band,  oh,  my  husband." 

Doctor  Blackman  coughed  and  dashed  his  hand  across  hi? 
eyes.  Mr.  Meridan  turned  away  and  walked  to  the  other 
side  of  the  deck. 

"By  Jove,"  cried  Doctor  Blackman,  following  him,  "it  is 
worth  while  for  a  fellow  to  have  a  wife  who  cares  for  him  like 
that!  Ar'n't  you  sorry  you're  a  bachelor?"  Mi*.  Meridan 
made  no  reply,  and  looking  at  him  more  closely,  the  Doctor 
saw  a  bright  tear  fall  from  his  cheek,  which  he  had  sought  to 
conceal  as  unmanly. 


AMONG   TilE   WOUNDED.  133 

"  Something  good  in  the  chap,  if  he  can  cry  over  a  woman's 
joy  in  finding  what  he  never  saw.  After  all,  I  guess  the 
world  in  general  is  better  than  we  are  disposed  to  give  it 
credit  for  beino-,"  with  which  sage  and  charitable  mental  com- 
ment, he  thrust  his  hands  deep  into  his  pockets  and  marched 
away.  The  next  moment  he  had  disappeared  through  the 
gangway,  and  was  seen  busy  with  the  wounded  whick  were 
already  being  brought  on  board. 

"Can  I  be  of  any  service  to  you,  ladies?"  asked  Mr.  Meri- 
dan,  returning  to  them  and  speaking  as  men  speak  when  it  is 
hard  to  control  the  powers  of  speech  and  render  them  effective. 
Astrea  was  forced  to  answer  for  both,  for  Mrs.  Noble  was 
weeping  unrestrainedly. 

"  Not  to-night,  thank  you,  if  it  is  not  possible  to  go  to  Major 
Noble.  We  will  go  below,  and  see  what  can  be  done  there  to 
pass  the  time  usefully  until  to-morrow  morning ;  then  perhaps, 
we  may  be  only  too  glad  to  claim  your  kind  offer  of  service." 

"  Command  me  fuUy :  I  shall  be  only  too  happy  to  aid  you 
in  any  way.  If  you  will  allow  me  to  hint  it,  I  fear  it  is  not 
best  for  either  of  you  to  be  here.  The  air  is  damp,  and  you 
will  take  cold.     Permit  me  to  assist  you  below,  Mrs.  Noble." 

Immediately  upon  reaching  the  cabin.  Miss  Harmon  led  her 
to  her  room,  brought  a  cup  of  tea  which  she  drank  eagerly, 
and  then  made  her  lie  down.  Notwithstandinof  the  stimulant 
which  she  had  taken,  the  overtaxed  woman  soon  sank  into  a 
profound  slumber,  and  her  tender  nurse  left  her  to  sleep  in 
peace  while  she  sought  the  cabin.  Here  cots  had  been  hastily 
thrown  upon  the  floor  upon  either  side  and  in  the  middle, 
leaving  two  narrow  passages  between,  the  length  of  the  boat. 
Already  they  were  filled  with  the  wounded,  whose  eagerly 
expressed  wants  filled  the  place  with  confusion.  Previous  ex- 
perience had  taught  her  what  was  to  be  done,  and  she  immedi- 
ately prepared  for  a  night's  labor  by  stepping  into  her  own 
state-room  and  assuming  a  proper  dress  for  moving  about 
Among  the  cots.  In  a  few  moments  she  again  appeared  with 
her  white  arms  bared,  and  a  handkerchief  bound  about  her 


134  A    STORY    OF    THE    GREAT   REBELLION. 

hair,  upon  which  she  had  dashed  water  until  it  was  drenched. 
Several  bright  drojis  ran  down  the  smooth  skin  of  her  cheeks 
as  she  came  out  into  the  lio-ht. 

"TThy,  what  have  you  been  doing  to  yourself,  IMiss  Har- 
mon?" asked  Doctor  Blackman,  who  happened  just  then  to 
pass  her. 

"  Only  getting  ready  to  help  you.  I  have  put  water  on  my 
head  to  prevent  a  headache  from  stooping.  You  see  how 
much  need  there  is  for  care.  I  would  not  like  to  have  to  give 
up  before  these  poor  men  get  something  to  eat,  and  have  had 
their  wounds  dressed." 

"You'll  do!"  answered  the  Doctor  heartily.  "I  wish  just 
now,  we  had  a  dozen  more  on  board  like  you! " 

"  Thank  you — so  do  I,  in  some  respects." 

"What  particular  respects?" 

"  Willingness  for  one ;  we  will  not  stop  to  name  others  now,'' 
and  she  left  him  to  begin  her  task. 

All  night  long  the  lights  blazed  in  the  cabin  and  flashed 
upon  the  guards  and  decks.  The  boat  was  filled  to  her  ut^ 
most  capacity — not  a  vacant  spot  that  was  not  taken  up  for 
the  resting-place  of  some  sufferer.  Astrea  had  commenced 
by  passing  down  one  aisle  and  examining  into  the  immediate 
wants  of  the  men.  The  first  thing  was  to  feed  them  for  they 
were  ravenously  hungry ;  then  began  the  more  trying  task  of 
dressing  their  wounds. 

"Boys,"  she  said  standing  where  they  could  all  hear  her, 
"I  have  taken  this  ward  half  way  down  the  cabin  under  my 
charge.  I  am  to  dress  your  wounds  and  try  to  make  you 
comfortable.  Many  of  you  are  badly  in  need  of  such  rehef, 
while  others  have  suffered  comparatively  little.  Shall  I  begin 
systematically  and  take  each  one  in  his  turn,  or  select  the 
worst  cases  first  ?  I  leave  it  to  you  to  decide,  because  I  do 
not  want  one  of  you  to  think  another  preferred  above  you." 

"  O,  take  the  worst,  of  course,"  cried  one  or  two  in  prompt 
affirmation.  The  others  responded  more  stragglingly,  but  all 
in  the  affirmative. 


AMONG   THE   WOUNDED.  135 

"As  I  expected,"  she  smiled,  "brave  men  are  never  selfish." 
SJie  knelt  beside  a  heavy,  giant-like  fellow  who  lay  with 
his  bright  eyes  wide  open  and  twinkling  restlessly.  A  ball 
had  passed  through  his  right  hand ;  that  must  be  dressed  first ; 
then  a  deep  flesh  wound  in  the  arm  just  above  the  elbow. 
These  done  he  moved  with  some  difficulty  and  displayed  an- 
other flesh  wound  upon  the  right  shoulder,  beginning  to  canker 
for  want  of  proper  attention.  "  You  see  I  couldn't  git  to  that 
myself,"  he  said  grimly,  "I  fixed  the  others  up  in  some  sort 
o'  shape ;  but  this  one  was  too  high  up." 

"  Do  you  tell  me  that  you  have  had  no  one  to  care  for  you 
since  receiving  those  wounds?" 

"Xary!  AYhat's  the  use?  I  lost  a  power  o'  blood  among 
'em,  but  then  I  was  a  sight  stronger  than  any  of  the  other 
fellers  round,  an'  I  told  the  medicine  chaps  to  let  me  alone  an' 
tend  to  'em." 

"  You  are  a  brave,  unselfish  man,  and  deserve  to  be  re- 
warded !     What  regiment  do  you  belong  to  ?  " 

"Berge's  sharpshooters.  But  you  never  mind.  I  don't 
want  no  promotion ;  I'm  fightin'  fur  my  ole  woman  an'  the 
chillen,  an'  don't  need  to  be  paid  fur  it.  Guess  if  we  was  all 
oflicers,  thar  wouldn't  be  any  men  to  fight." 
^  ''  Hurrah  I  you're  a  trump ! "  shouted  a  wild  young  fellow, 
lifting  himself  upon  his  sound  arm  to  look  at  his  comrade.  "I 
say,  Stevens,  you'll  wear  a  Corporal's  bars  before  you  know 
it,  old  feUow." 

Those  around  laughed ;  Stevens  grunted. 

"Don't  want  'em." 

"A  Lieutenant's  then;  they'll  be  better." 

"Don't  want  'em." 

"A  Captain's." 

"Don't  want  'em." 

"Suppose,  then,  you  take  a  Colonel's." 

"  Don't  want  'em." 

"  What  do  you  want,  I'd  like  to  know." 

"Want  you  to  shet  up  yer  jaw  an'  let  a  feller  alone.     If 


136  A   STORY    OF   THE   GREAT   REBELLIOX. 

ye  need  'em,  I  give  ye  all  my  chances  to  put  a  feather  in  yer 
cap." 

"Now  I  think  I  have  finished,"  said  Astrea  taking  up  her 
sponge  and  basin.     "I  hope  you  feel  comfortable." 

"Not  quite,"  and  he  drew  one  foot  up  slowly.  "I  guess 
the  rebs  found  my  heels  in  spite  of  me,  as  they  shot  one  purty 
niffh  off."  Astrea  removed  the  bandag-es  and  revealed  a  ter- 
rible  wound.  A  piece  of  shell  still  remained  in  it,  which  must 
have  caused  untold  agony. 

"  I  cannot  dress  it  until  this  is  out.  Can  you  bear  to  have 
a  slight  operation?  It  is  a  wonder  it  is  not  past  all  help.  I 
am  not  sure,  indeed,  that  we  can  save  your  foot  now." 

"  Hope  there  aint  any  more,"  spoke  a  quiet  voice  a  little  be- 
yond them.  "I  should  think  a  few  more  shots  would  have 
left  nothing  of  you." 

"You  see  the  advantage  of  being  big,"  answered  Stevens, 
stoutly.  "It  gives  more  space  to  work  on,  an'  still  leaves 
something  fur  the  doctors." 

"What  is  this  you  are  saying,  my  man?"  and  Doctor  Clarke 
stopped  beside  him. 

"  Nothing  o'  consequence ;  but  I  think  this  lady  wants  you 
to  do  something  or  other." 

Astrea  looked  up. 

"  Here  is  a  piece  of  shell  in  this  wound  which  must  come 
out,"  and  she  displayed  it.  He  looked  at  the  foot  and  then  at 
the  man. 

"  I  think  I  heard  somebody  call  you  a  '  trump '  a  moment 
ago.  That  is  no  name  for  you,  if  you  have  borne  all  this 
without  complaint.  I  suppose  you  would  not  mind  having  it 
out,  now?" 

"  As  ye  please." 

Yet  in  spite  of  his  stoical  bravery,  the  great  fellow  winced, 
and  groaned  heavily  as  the  Doctor  proceeded  in  the  operation. 
Astrea  stood  by  the  operator,  a  ready  and  efficient  help,  closely 
observing  the  skillful  and  tender  care  of  his  hands,  while  his 
lips  smiled  and  his  tongue  jested.     No  touch  was  lighter  than 


AMONG   THE   WOUNDED.  137 

his ;  no  hand  more  rapid  and  dexterous.  And  it  was  in  this 
tliat  the  kind  heart  revealed  itself,  making  no  sign  nor  boast, 
but  Avorking  out  its  sympathy  in  deeds  that  brought  relief 
and  rest.  He  did  not  leave  her  after  that.  Wherever  she 
went  he  was  sure  to  be  beside  her,  rendering  more  than  aid. 
Indeed,  she  came  into  the  position  of  his  assistant,  and  they 
worked  in  unity  until  the  wearisome  and  painful  task  was 
ended. 

"Now  come  out  a  moment  and  take  the  fresh  air.  The 
stifling,  rank  odors  of  this  room  will  make  you  ill." 

She  followed  him  out  and  looked  abroad  upon  the  still  night. 
Faint  and  distant,  came  strains  of  music  upon  the  moonlit  air. 

"  General  Halleck  is  returning.  An  expedition  went  up  the 
river  to-night  to  destroy  a  ralh'oad  bridge,  and  he  accompa- 
nied It." 

"  He  was  on  the  Continental,  then  ?  I  heard  the  band  as 
they  started  out,  and  afterwards  missed  the  gunboats.    Hark ! " 

Just  below  them  was  a  large  vessel,  upon  whose  decks  were 
groups  of  men  with  lanterns.  From  the  midst  of  one,  came 
up  to  them  a  strong  man's  sobs  and  entreaties  to  spare  the  arm 
the  surgeon  Avas  about  to  amputate. 

"  But,  my  good  man,  you  will  die,"  came  in  the  expostulat- 
injj  voice  of  the  doctor. 

"Then  let  me  die.  I  would  rather  be  dead  than  maimed 
for  life.     Pray  go  away  and  leave  me  to  die  in  peace." 

"  Rather  a  hard  position  to  place  a  man  in,"  remarked  Doc- 
tor Clarke.  "Of  course  he  cannot  let  him  die  without  an 
effort  to  save  him.     There,  it  is  over !  " 

Astrea  looked.  Some  one  held  to  the  sufferer's  face  a  sponge 
filled  with  chloroform,  and  he  had  sunk  back  silently,  resisting 
no  more.  She  turned  her  face  away  and  walked  to  the  other 
end  of  the  boat. 

"I  shall  have  to  see  enough  without  looking  at  that,"  she 
said,  a  little  tremulously.     Then  steadying  her  voice : 

"What  have  they  done  with  all  the  rebel  prisoners  and 
wounded,  Doctor  Clarke?" 


138       A  STORY  OF  THE  GREAT  REBELLION. 

"  Sent  them  to  various  points.  We  have  some  of  the 
wounded.  The  other  boats  have  some,  and  a  number  are 
still  ashore." 

"Have  we  any  oflScers?" 

"  Xot  here,  I  think.  A  number  were  taken.  Do  you  sup- 
pose any  of  your  fi-iends  to  be  among  them?" 

"None  of  my  friends^''  she  answered,  with  emphasis,  and 
turned  abruptly  into  the  cabin.  In  so  doing  she  came  face  to 
face  with  Mr.  Meridan. 

"  Ah,  I  was  looking  for  you.  Miss  Harmon.  Doctor  Black- 
man  thinks  as  soon  as  it  is  light  enough  to  see  our  way,  we 
had  better  go  for  Major  Xoble  and  bring  him  on  board  before 
his  wife  awakens.  It  is  not  necessary,  you  understand,  but 
it  would  be  a  pleasant  tiling  for  her  to  wake  and  find  him  here 
after  all  her  anxiety." 

"  It  would  indeed,  and  Doctor  Blackman  is  more  than  kind 
to  think  of  it.  Still,  if  the  roads  are  so  bad,  I  cannot  see  how 
it  can  be  done  so  easily." 

She  was  right,  and  the  sun  had  risen  before  they  got  fairly 
started.  Two  horses  were  brought  down  to  the  river,  and 
Mr.  Meridan  with  Astrea  were  detailed  for  the  duty.  She 
demurred  until  they  insisted  that  she  would  be  needed  to  make 
the  Major  comfortable ;  and  as  it  was  out  of  the  question  for 
his  wife  to  undertake  the  trip  across  the  field  to  where  he  lay, 
she  yielded  and  set  out  cheerfully,  leaving  her  friend  still  fast 
asleep.  Yery  slowly  the  horses  labored  through  the  mire,  round 
the  narrow  road,  up  the  rugged  bluffs.  As  they  approached  the 
dead  bodies  lying  in  their  horrible  ghastliness  with  their  faces 
upturned,  Astrea's  horse  shied  and  came  near  unseating  her.  It 
was  not  a  very  secure  seat  at  best,  in  a  man's  saddle  with  one 
stirrup  shortened  and  the  other  brought  over  the  saddle.  Had 
she  been  a  less  fearless  horsewoman,  or  valued  appearances 
above  the  discharge  of  duty,  she  could  never  have  ventured 
to  assume  it.  As  it  was,  she  maintained  her  place  steadily, 
and  guided  the  restless  animal  with  a  firm  and  skillful  hand. 
Presently  they  reached  the  summit  of  the  bluffs  and  struck 


BURYING   THE   DEAD.  139 

off  m  a  nortlierly  direction,  according  to  orders  from  Doctor 
Blackmail.  They  expected  to  travel  about  a  mile  to  a  certain 
point  where  they  were  to  inquire  for  the  position  of  Stuart's  bri- 
frule,  then  find  the  Fifty-fifth  Illinois  regiment's  head-quarters. 

Though  the  sun  shone  beautifully,  and  the  birds  flitted  joy- 
ously all  about  them,  it  was  not  possible  for  Astrea  to  rise 
above  the  sadness  that  oppressed  her.  Their  way  lay  through 
scenes  trying  to  stouter  hearts  than  hers.  Here  such  strange 
new  phases  of  life  were  presented.  Now  they  passed  a  knot 
of  men  burying  the  dead,  who  would  pause  to  look  at  them 
for  a  moment,  then  go  on  with  their  work,  whistling  carelessly. 
And  again  they  would  discover  the  grave-diggers  resting  from 
their  labors,  and  munching  their  breakfast  of  crackers  and 
cheese  with  infinite  relish,  heedless  of  the  ghastly  forms  lying 
so  near  them!  From  thousands  of  camp  fires,  blue  wreaths 
of  smoke  curled  up  gracefully  through  the  trees,  and  the  white 
tents  gleamed  dazzlingly  pure  under  the  beautiful  light  of  the 
early  morning.  As  they  passed  one  sj^ot,  a  group  of  soldiers 
were  gathered  around  an  enterprising  peddler  of  patent  medi- 
cines, who  mounted  upon  a  huge  stump,  was  crying  the  virtues 
of  his  wares  with  stentorian  lungs : 

"I'll  teU  you  what  it  is,  my  brave  lads  of  the  Army  of  the 
Southwest,  this  medicine  is  the  best  ever  compounded,  and 
warranted  to  cure  every  iU  to  which  human  flesh  is  heir.  The 
wonders  it  produces  are  perfectly  incalculable.  If  you  are 
troubled  with  wakefulness,  take  a  half  a  teaspoonful  of  the 
Magic  Cure- All,  and  it  will  instantly  put  you  into  a  Eip  Van 
Winkle  sleep  that  will  last  a  hundred  years.  And  again  it  is 
invaluable  for  headache,  that  most  distressing  of  all  complaints, 
especially  to  the  man  of  mental  parts,  who  lives  upon  his  wits. 
You  see,  gentlemen,  I  know  from  experience,  [here  a  shout  of 
laughter,]  and  the  relief  it  has  brought  me  I  cannot  describe. 
All  you  have  to  do  is  to  shave  the  top  of  your  head,  apply  a 
small  portion  of  the  mixture  to  it  with  a  linen  cloth,  and  in 
something  less  than  a  month  after  the  applicaticn,  your  head- 
ache will  disappear." 


140       A  STORY  OF  THE  GREAT  REBELLION. 

By  this  time  our  friends  were  too  far  away  to  distinguish 
what  was  said,  but  loud  shouts  of  laughter  followed  them  for 
some  distance.     Mr.  Meridan  smiled  rather  quizzically. 

"  Such  enterprising  men  make  fortunes"  he  said  "  and  are 
admitted  into  society  on  equal  terms  with  better  people.  He 
can  stand  up  here  in  the  face  of  death,  and  vend  his  vile  drugs 
without  thought  or  care  of  the  thousands  slain ;  then  go  back 
to  your  gay  cities  and  mix  with  the  daintiest  of  the  land.  If  he 
happens  to  be  successful  in  filling  his  purse  beforehand." 

"If  you  knew  more  about  our  higher  class  of  society,  you 
would  not  say  this  Mr.  Meridan.  Your  prejudices  have  made 
you  unjust,  and  you  exaggerate  the  evil.  While  I  have  no 
wish  to  retaliate,  you  will  allow  me  to  say  here,  that  I  think, 
were  you  to  turn  your  thoughts  back  to  your  native  land,  you 
would  find  that  evils  of  as  great  or  greater  magnitude  exist 
socially,  as  can  be  found  in  America." 

"Name  some  of  them." 

"Take  your  marriage  laws  for  instance.  There  is  no  help 
for  the  man  or  woman  who  has  made  the  mistake  of  mating 
dishonorably.  Either  may  steep  the  other  in  the  direst  shame 
and  you  give  the  Avronged  one  no  redress  or  protection." 

"  Well,  that,  bad  as  it  is,  is  better  than  the  laws  by  which 
men  may  escape  from  a  wearisome  connection  at  pleasure. 
Marriage  in  this  country  has  no  bonds  so  sacred  they  cannot 
be  broken  at  will.  The  vilest  wretch  may  marry  a  sweet 
young  girl  and  wear  her  tiU  the  first  bloom  and  freshness 
has  been  worn  away  by  his  own  rude  handling,  then  he  wiU 
neglect  her  until  the  tainting  breath  of  scandal  has  touched 
her  fair  name,  and  taking  advantage  of  this,  he  applies  for  a 
divorce,  gets  it,  and  leaves  her  to  the  mercies  of  a  cold  and 
cruel  world." 

"  Better  that  than  the  daily  presence  and  companionship  of 
such  a  man,"  with  a  warmth  almost  startling.  "  With  such 
an  one,  the  fair,  pure  soul  cannot  remain  spotless,  but  must  be 
dragged  to  the  dust  and  made,  in  part,  at  least,  to  mate  with 
his  own.     Apart,  though  she  be  cut  off  from  the  world,  and 


A  NARROW  ESCAPE.  141 

her  name  bandied  by  the  heedless  or  malicious  most  cruelly, 
she  may  still  rise  above  her  wrongs,  and  live  for  that  better 
life  where  such  wrongs  are  unkno^vn." 

Mr.  jNIerldan  looked  at  her  keenly. 

"  I  never  expected  to  hear  a  lady,  young  and  beautiful,  de- 
fend such  laws.     It  sounds  strangely  to  my  ears." 

"  Then  we  will  drop  the  subject  if  you  please,  sir.  It  is  a 
scarcely  fitting  one  for  the  time  and  place." 

Her  face  had  suddenly  grown  hard  and  cold,  and  the  large, 
dark  eyes  looking  straight  before  her,  had  a  glittering,  strong 
glare  which  sent  a  disagreeable  thrill  through  him  as  he  looked, 

o  o  o 

They  were  passing  at  the  moment,  over  a  rough  piece  of 
ground  where  the  trees  had  fallen  in  every  direction.  Mr. 
Meridan's  attention  was  drawn  necessarily  from  his  compan- 
ion's face  to  their  road  and  the  horses,  who  evinced  marked 
dislike  to  the  locality.  Being  unable  to  get  around  the  large 
bodies  of  the  trees  from  their  inextricable  entanglement,  they 
were  obliged  to  clear  them,  a  feat  which  Astrea  performed 
with  comparative  safety.  In  this  way  they  had  neai'ly  crossed 
the  obstructions,  when  suddenly  Mr.  Meridan's  horse  took 
fright  at  a  dead  body  lying  directly  imder  his  feet  as  he  jumped 
a  huge  log,  and  with  a  fearfid  leap  to  one  side,  he  threw  his 
rider  violently  from  the  saddle  several  yards  distant,  where  he 
lay  motionless. 

"Oh,  heaven,  he  is  killed!"  gasped  Astrea,  deathly  white 
with  the  sudden  shock.  But  the  next  moment  she  had  sprung 
from  the  saddle,  and  was  kneeling  beside  the  fallen  man,  while 
both  horses  dashed  madly  away  across  the  field. 

A  long,  deep  cut  upon  the  forehead  left  the  skull  bare  for 
two  Inches.  The  blood  flowed  proftisely,  and  Astrea  looked 
about  her  instinctively  for  help.  Not  a  soul  was  near  enough 
to  render  any  assistance,  and  to  call  was  useless.  What  could 
she  do  ?  The  ftdl  extent  of  his  injury  she  could  not  judge,  as 
yet,  but  she  put  her  hand  on  his  heart  and  found  that  It  beat 
with  a  dull,  heavy  motion;  he  was  not  dead;  would  he  die? 
She  could  not  tell  if  the  skull  was  fractured,  or  whether  he 


142  A   STORY   OF   THE   GREAT   REBELLIOX. 

had  received  other  hurts  m  his  violent  fall.  Far  along  the 
range  of  her  vision,  the  white  tents  gleamed,  and  blue  wreaths 
of  smoke  curled  up  toward  the  sky.  If  she  only  dared  to 
leave  him  until  she  could  procure  aid;  but  to  do  that  would 
expose  him  to  death  from  loss  of  blood.  She  must  staunch 
that,  first,  then  endeavor  to  get  him  to  some  place  of  safety. 

A  small  spring  bubbled  up  in  a  rocky  spot  a  short  distance 
from  her,  and  taking  Mr.  Meridan's  handkerchief  from  his 
pocket,  she  ran  and  saturated  it  freely.  By  the  time  she  could 
return,  however,  he  had  fainted  and  the  copious  flow  at  once 
ceased.  With  rapid  fingers  she  wiped  the  stains  away,  took 
from  her  pocket  a  little  needle  case  with  white  sewing  silk, 
scissors,  and  every  thing  complete  for  use,  and  put  several 
stitches  through  the  edge  of  the  cut — clipped  the  silk  closely, 
and  then  tearing  her  handkerchief  into  strips,  bound  it  about 
his  head. 

All  this  was  done  rapidly,  and  then  she  ran  again  for  water 
to  restore  him  to  consciousness.  It  looked  very  like  death  to 
see  him  lying  so  pale  and  still  under-  her  chafing  hands ;  and 
it  lasted  so  long,  without  any  sign  of  returning  life,  she  began 
to  fear  that  the  vital  spark  had  gone  out  forever. 

"What  shall  I  do?  What  shall  I  do?"  she  said  at  length 
in  despair.  "If  he  is  not  really  dead,  he  will  die,  and  no  one 
near  to  help  him." 

Not  knoAving  what  else  to  attempt,  she  went  back  to  the 
spring,  again  dipped  the  handkerchief  in  the  water  and  ran  to 
him  with  a  tiny  stream  marking  her  course.  This  she  dashed 
over  his  face  and  pressed  to  his  mouth.  A  moment  later,  to 
her  infinite  joy,  a  faint,  but  perceptible  sigh  came  through  the 
pale  lips.  She  redoubled  her  efibrts,  chafing  his  hands  zeal- 
ously, until  she  knew  that  he  was  beginning  to  recover.  As- 
sured of  this  a  sudden  perversity  of  feeling  seized  her.  She 
withdrew  from  his  side,  sat  down  on  a  log  at  a  short  distance 
from  him,  and  dropping  her  face  in  her  hands,  burst  into  tears. 

Why  should  she  not  weep  ?  There  had  been  a  sudden  and 
severe  shock — a  heavy  tax  upon  her  powers  of  action  and 


ASSISTANCE   AT   HAND.  143 

self-control,  following  close  upon  Ipng  days  and  nights  of  in- 
tense care  and  anxiety.  Her  sympathies  were  tender,  her 
nervous  system  keenly  alive  to  change.  Nothing  but  a  won- 
derful will-power  could  have  upheld  a  woman  so  constituted 
under  such  trying  difficulties.  It  was  natural  for  intense  ex- 
citement and  overwrousjht  feeling  to  take  this  course  and  dis- 
solve  in  tears.  If  she  did  not  weep,  It  was  because  she  had 
good  reasons  for  suppressing  her  tears.  Such  control  over 
her  weaker  nature,  always  cost  her  more  or  less  of  strength, 
and  now  there  was  no  reason  why  she  should  deny  herself  the 
luxury  of  the  relief  tears  seldom  fail  to  bring.  So  she  cried 
heartily,  in  a  very  womanish  way. 

Before  Mr.  Meridan  had  fairly  recovered  his  faculties,  two 
soldiers  came  careering  toward  them  on  the  truant  horses. 
The  peculiar  arrangement  of  the  stirrups  had  betrayed  a 
lady's  use  of  one,  and  they  had  rightly  conjectured  some  mis- 
hap to  the  riders.  Following  the  direction  from  which  the 
panting  animals  came,  they  had  ridden  back  over  the  road, 
and  found  them  just  in  time  to  render  the  assistance  so  much 
needed. 

Mr.  Meridan  was  soon  able,  with  the  aid  of  the  two  men, 
to  assume  his  saddle,  while  Astrea  led  her  horse  to  a  fallen 
log,  and  mounted  to  her  uncomfortable  seat  and  rode  slowly 
after  them,  and  a  few  hours  later,  while  the  crowd  gathered 
and  surged  around  the  landing,  an  ambulance  driven  by  a 
merry  son  of  Erin,  came  slowly  down  the  winding  path  and 
halted  before  the  Lancaster.  Two  men  rode  forward  at  once 
and  dismounted.  Then  the  back  of  the  vehicle  was  taken 
out,  and  Astrea's  little  foot  was  placed  upon  the  steps.  Mrs. 
Noble  who  had  been  pacing  up  and  down  the  guards  for  what 
to  her  seemed  an  age,  caught  sight  of  her,  and  rushed  down 
the  stairs  and  across  the  plank. 

"Oh,  Astrea,  how  could  you  treat  me  so  like  a  child! "- she 
said  reproachfully.  "  Was  it  not  my  riglit  to  seek  my  hus- 
band myself — and  you  were  unkind  enough  to  keep  me  here 
doins  nothins." 


144  A   STORY   OF  THE   GREAT  REBELLION. 

One  look  into  the  grieved  face  told  Astrea  how  deeply 
Helen  felt  what  she  considered  a  wrong,  and  she  was  for  an 
instant,  humiliated,  as  she  thought  within  herself  how  Indig- 
nantly she  Avould  have  resented  a  like  encroachment  upon  her 
rights.  But  a  second  thought  dispelled  the  unpleasant  sensa- 
tion, when  she  recalled  her  friend's  utter  physical  inability  to 
the  task,  and  the  accident  which  had  placed  Mr.  Meridan  be- 
side Major  Noble,  almost  as  helpless  as  he.  A  smile  broke  over 
her  face,  and  she  laid  one  hand  upon  Helen's  arm,  tenderly. 

*'  I  know  I  have  pained  you,  but  it  was  farthest  from  my 
thoughts  to  do  you  a  wrong  in  any  way.  You  will  soon  come 
to  think  differently  of  the  matter  when  you  know  all." 

Mr.  Meridan  was  lifted  out  first  and  assisted  up  to  the  cabin. 
Then  they  took  the  Major  out  and  placed  him  upon  a  camp 
cot  which  they  carried  up  stairs  and  bore  back  to  the  stew- 
ardess' cabin.  At  first  there  had  been  only  a  silent  clasping 
of  hands;  and  then,  while  the  young  wife  followed  with  fast 
flowing  tears,  the  Major's  closed  eyes  held  the  drops  that  gath- 
ered under  the  lids.  When  the  men  had  put  down  the  cot, 
Astrea  made  a  gesture  for  them  to  retire,  and  taking  Helen  in 
her  arms  for  one  moment  she  left  a  mute  kiss  upon  the  quiv- 
ering lips,  after  which  she  went  out  and  closed  the  door. 

And  now  after  all  those  long  hours  of  anguish,  she  was 
alone  with  her  husband.  Poor  Helen !  What  a  cry  went  up 
from  her  heart  as  she  fell  upon  her  knees  by  his  side  and  laid 
her  cheek  to  his,  thin  and  wan  already  with  great  suffering. 
His  left  hand  wandered  lovingly  over  her  hair,  and  now  the 
large  tears  flowed  unchecked. 

"  Oh,  George,  they  told  me  you  had  been  killed,  and  I  was 
rebellious — wicked.  The  force  of  my  anguish  unnerved  me, 
and  I  could  not  sooner  come  to  see  if  it  was  really  true.  Even 
noAv  I  am  so  weak  and  wan,  they  have  kept  me  here  while 
they  went  for  you,  and  that  made  me  more  wicked  still — ^I 
was  so  ungrateful  with  all.  Now  I  have  you  safe,  and  I  don't 
deserve  it.  God  cannot  forgive  one  so  selfish  and  unreasona- 
ble.    What  shall  T  ever  do  to  merit  this  great  blessing  to  my 


MAIMED    FOR   LIFE.  145 

life — to  have  you  back  from  the  grave?     Oh,  my  husband, 
my  husband — given  back  to  me  from  the  jaws  of  death." 

She  spoke  brokenly,  with  little  impulsive  sobs,  while  he 
still  gently  stroked  her  hair.     He  spoke  now  very  tenderly : 

"  Yes,  Helen ;  and  you  will  not  quarrel  with  a  wise  Direc- 
tor if  He  has  chosen  that  I  shall  come  to  you  again  badly 
scathed?" 

He  lifted  her  face,  and  pointed  down  to  the  bandaged  stump 
of  his  poor  arm,  lying  so  near  her,  and  which  Astrea  had  hasti- 
ly covered  over  with  a  sheet.  Instantly  her  cheeks  and  lips 
turned  very  white,  and  again  her  face  fell  against  his.  For  a 
full  minute  she  did  not  answer.  When  she  did  speak,  it  was 
in  a  subdued,  quiet  yet  tremulous  tone  that  betrayed  the  clos- 
ing of  a  brief,  fierce  strufjsrle. 

"  How  sad  is  this  moment !  You  have  suffered  and  I  have 
been  so  proud  of  you!  I  did  not  quite  know  what  it  would 
cost  me  to  be  so  tried,  but  I  can  say  now,  '  Thy  will  be  done.' 
I  am  no  more  rebellious,  I  hope." 

"  Poor  little  wife !  And  she  has  had  to  bear  it  alone.  The 
battle  has  been  a  hard  one." 

"  Only  for  her  it  would  have  killed  me — Astrea — that  good 
and  noble  girl  with  whom  I  have  been  angry  all  day  because 
she  went  for  you  and  left  me  sleeping.  She  has  been  every- 
thing to  me." 

" '  Cast  thy  bread  upon  the  waters,' "  quoted  the  Major, 
smiHng  faintly  into  the  eager  face  Helen  lifted  when  she  began 
to  speak  of  her  friend.  "This  time  it  has  come  back,  how- 
ever '  after  few  days '  instead  of  many.  I  think  no  real  kind- 
ness is  ever  lost,  little  wife." 

"  No,  though  as  she  says  sometimes,  the  rewards  are  a  weary 
while  coming  in  too  many  cases." 

"  For  our  patience,  perhaps,  but  seldom  for  our  real  good, 
if  we  could  only  believe  it,"  and  then  the  Major's  thoughts 
took  a  sudden  turn  and  he  spoke  quickly. 

"  I  suppose  you  know  Wilfer  was  taken  prisoner.     I  heard 
it  only  this  morning." 
10 


146  A    STORY    OF   THE   GREAT   REBELLION. 

"No!     When  was  it?" 

"On  Sunday.  I  am  told  he  fought  hke  a  hero,  and  did 
more  before  his  capture  than  any  other  officer  in  his  division. 
Now  he  must  be  carried  down  there  to  languish  in  those  hor- 
rible southern  prisons !     How  sad !  " 

"Poor  Captain  Wilfer,"  echoed  Helen  regretfully,  and  As- 
trea  coming  to  the  door  that  moment  to  see  if  she  was  needed, 
caught  the  import  of  his  closing  sentence  and  heard  her  reply. 
She  did  not  enter,  but  went  outside,  crept  round  a  pile  of  boxes 
on  the  side  of  the  boat  farthest  from  the  shore,  and  screened 
from  observation  thus,  sat  some  time  looking  vacantly  out 
across  the  river.  I  think  she  was  not  conscious  of  her  own 
depth  of  feeling.  She  did  not  know  just  why  it  was  that  this 
news  had  seemed  to  stun  her  like  a  sudden  and  unexpected 
blow,  because  she  was  so  fully  persuaded  that  she  did  not 
particularly  care  for  him.  Now  as  she  called  up  scenes  of 
suffering,  privation  and  cruelty  in  those  far  off,  dismal  prisons, 
she  imagined  the  sick  feeling  which  came  with  them,  arose 
only  from  common  sympathy,  and  the  remembrance  of  that 
last  sad  good-bye  which  haunted  her  very  forcibly  at  this 
moment.  There  had  been  times  when  she  chided  and  severely 
ridiculed  herself  when  his  name  was  mentioned,  and  a  con- 
scious growing  interest  alarmed  her.  Resolution  had  banished 
that,  she  thought  now,  and  she  only  felt  as  she  might  feel  if 
any  one  she  knew  had  been  captured.  He  was  a  brave,  good 
man,  and  she  disliked  to  think  that  his  useful  career  had  been 
checked  thus  abruptly.  It  might  be  so  long  before  he  could 
be  exchanged ;  and  then  his  health  might  be  so  broken,  as  to 
render  him  unfit  for  service. .  Or  they  might  parole  him,  in 
which  case  he  could  not  take  up  arms  again  in  the  defense  of 
his  country.  But  a  prompt  "no"  answered  this  thought. 
He  would  not  give  his  parole.  He  would  either  wait  to  be 
exchanged  or  die  there,  and  she  did  not  know  that  her  cheek 
kindled  and  her  eye  flashed  with  pride  as  the  thought  passed 
through  her  mind. 


CHAPTER    XII. 

a:moxg  the  wouxded  and  dying. 

"  A.H,  truant,  I  have  found  you  at  last !  Will  you  come 
and  help  me?" 

Doctor  Blackman's  face  appeared  suddenly  above  her,  and 
his  voice  quick  and  sharp,  ran  along  her  nerves  with  painful 
discord.  She  started  to  her  feet  confused  and  trembling,  feel- 
ing a  strong  sense  of  resentment  that  had  nearly  expressed 
itself  in  words.  It  was  a  disagreeable  shock  to  be  so  broken 
in  upon  at  that  moment,  and  she  turned  to  him  a  face  which 
caused  him  to  laugh  aloud,  then  suddenly  to  become  grave 
and  alarmed  by  its  expression. 

"  You  look  as  if  I  had  struck  you,"  he  said.  "  Pardon  my 
abruptness,  please." 

"What  do  you  wish.  Doctor  Blackman?" 

"I  wanted  to  ask  you  to  help  me  with  an  amputation,"  he 
hesitatingly  answered.  "I  know  it  is  asking  much,  but  I  am 
in  despair.  All  the  other  doctors  and  most  of  the  assistants 
have  gone  ashore  and  are  busy  there.  Meridan  is  as  helpless 
as  a  baby  with  that  ugly  cut,  and  if  you  cannot  bear  to  see 
the  operation,  my  last  hope  is  gone,  and  my  patient  will  prob- 
ably have  to  die." 

"I  will  help  you." 

The  Doctor  gave  a  sigh  of  relief.  Her  simple,  positive 
tone  reassured  him,  for  he  knew  she  would  not  undertake  any- 
thing which  she  was  incapable  of  carrying  out.     Still  the 


148  A   STOEY   OF   THE   GREAT   EEBELLIOX. 

lingering  expression  of  her  face  made  him  feel  uncomfortable, 
as  she  walked  beside  him  down  to  the  deck  and  back  to  the 
place  where  the  man  was  lying.  He  again  attempted  to  apol- 
ogize for  his  abruptness,  but  she  cut  him  short  in  a  manner 
that  silenced  him  at  once. 

"Do  not  think  of  it.  Doctor.  I  have  lost  much  sleep,  feel 
rather  weary,  and  on  the  whole  am  rather  nervous,  I  presume. 
I  went  back  there  to  find  a  quiet  place,  and  it  was  such  a 
luxury,  it  was  something  of  a  shock  to  be  aroused  from  it  and 
to  come  back  to  duty  again.  I  was  selfish  to  feel  cross  about 
it,  and  am  heartily  ashamed  of  the  momentary  irritation.  If 
you  can  excuse  this  in  me,  we  will  drop  the  subject." 

"  Selfish !  If  you  are  selfish,  I  would  like  to  see  what  you 
would  call  unselfish  people,  for  they  must  be  wonders  of 
generosity." 

The  operation  was  quickly  performed,  and  Astrea  stood  by 
him  faithfully,  never  shrinking  to  the  end.  Only  once,  when 
the  httle  saw  grated  through  the  bone,  did  she  change  color 
and  set  her  teeth  tightly  together ;  but  there  was  no  trembling 
or  outward  sign  of  emotion.  This  woman's  will  was  like  iron, 
and  would  not  let  the  fearful  strain  upon  her  powers  of  en- 
durance, appear,  even,  much  less  affect  her  to  the  exclusion 
of  the  aid  she  was  called  upon  to  render.  When  they  had 
finished,  Doctor  Blackman's  eyes  met  hers  with  a  broad  stare 
of  admiration  and  wonder. 

"You  are  the  strangest  woman  I  ever  saw.  Ninety-nine 
out  of  one  hundred  people  would  swear  that  you  could  not 
bear  anything,  to  look  at  you;  and  here  you  stand  like  a 
statue — calm  and  unyielding.  It  is  not  because  you  have  no 
sympathy  or  feeling.  I  know  you  have  that  to  an  unusual 
degree.  It  is  your  will  which  amazes  me,  and  your  strength 
to  endure.  I  wonder  what  would  happen  if  another  strong 
will  were  to  come  in  contact  with  yours ;  and  prove  as  firm 
and  steady.  I  would  like  to  witness  the  conflict  and  the  final 
triumph  of  either  party,  though  I  confess  I  should  not  like  to 
be  the  one  to  oppose  you." 


FEMININE   HEROES.  149 

Gradually  his  tone  became  lighter,  until  the  close  of  his 
sentence  was  playful.     She  answered  him  lightly. 

"I  avoid  conflicts.  If  an  opposing  will  can  satisfy  my  rea- 
son, I  am  always  ready  to  yield.  If  not,  I  will  never  contend. 
Better  separation  and  safety,  than  for  two  hard  substances  to 
strike  together.  They  are  apt  to  produce  sparks,  and  from 
sparks  flames  are  kindled — flames  that  consume  and  utterly  de- 
stroy.    Individual  battles  are  both  dangerous  and  degrading." 

"Did  you  never  seriously  disagree  with  anybody,  in  either 
politics  or  religion?"  he  asked  still  playfully.  "Those  are 
fruitful  topics  for  discord,  and  I  cannot  imagine  such  a  charac- 
ter as  yours  separating  itself  from  both." 

"  Nor  do  I ;  but  what  good  can  come  from  conflicts  ?  Others 
have  equal  rights  to  their  own  private  opinions,  when  based 
upon  a  sound  and  conscientious  reasoning  of  the  subjects.  I 
will  adopt  no  creed  or  theory  that  I  have  not  first  been  led  to 
believe  right,  and  from  that  ground  when  once  taken,  no  power 
on  earth  can  move  me  by  mere  opposition.  Being  thus  firm, 
why  should  I  strive  to  shake  from  beneath  others,  their  dearly 
beloved  footing?  It  is  far  better  for  each  to  cherish  his  or  her 
own  '  pets '  and  go  their  own  way  in  peace,  than  for  one  to  try 
to  win  or  coerce  the  other  into  their  particular  views  of  things." 

"  But  you  know  that  it  is  by  opposition  we  rise.  If  there 
were  no  conflicts  of  opinions  and  feelings,  progress  would  fall 
dead,  and  the  world  would  stand  still,  moving  no  higher  up 
forever  than  its  present  position." 

"That  may  be,  but  do  we  necessarily  stand  still  if  we  come 
not  to  personal  conflict  in  our  views?  The  course  we  take 
and  the  work  we  accomplish  must  determine  our  share  in  the 
work  of  progression.  I  will  have  my  own  way  where  reason 
and  conscience  approve,  and  I  will  have  it  in  peace.  I  do 
not  like  to  fight  for  my  privileges.  If  I  must  do  it,  the  fight 
will  be  disastrous  to  one  or  the  other.  I  would  sooner  die 
than  yield." 

"I  believe  it!  You  ought  to  have  been  a  soldier.  I  sup- 
pose you  could  make  a  better  one  than  either  Belle  Boyd  or 


150  A    STORY   OF   THE    GREAT   REBELLION. 

Belle  Reynolds — those  feminine  heroes  who  are  like  shinino- 
stars  in  the  center  of  the  Confederate  and  Federal  chaplets." 

"  You  may  well  speak  with  such  sarcasm,  sir.  I  should  con- 
sider myself  deserving  of  such  remarks,  if  I  could  even  think 
of  assuming  so  unwomanly  a  position  as  they  have  done. 
Surely  the  avenues  of  usefulness  are  not  so  tightly  closed 
against  us,  as  to  drive  us  into  unseemly  ways  to  prove  our 
patriotism.  A  woman  may  be  earnest  and  enthusiastic;  but  a 
true  and  pure  enthusiasm  will  keep  her  within  the  boundaries 
of  her  own  sphere." 

"  Undoubtedly.  But  do  you  know  some  people  would  call 
you  inconsistent?  You  are  womanly — purely  so  in  all  your 
manners ;  but  you  act  as  few  women  can  act,  when  your  aid 
is  required.  I  may  say  that  you  are  manly  in  your  strength 
and  capacities." 

"  Allow  me  to  say  that  you  are  mistaken.  I  am  not  manly 
simply  because  I  have  strength  of  will  and  self-control.  You 
base  your  assertion  upon  the  ground  that  I  have  been  able  to 
bear  more,  physically,  than  any  woman  you  have  known,  and 
you  set  me  apart  from  my  sex  as  '  manly '  in  consequence.  If 
you  will  reflect  for  a  little  while,  you  will  acknowledge  that 
in  all  domestic  and  social  ills,  the  woman  is  stronger  and  more 
enduring  than  the  man,  as  a  general  thing.  This  proves  her 
native  strength;  and  that  strength  is  too  often  cultivated  in 
the  way  I  have  mentioned.  The  need  is  more  frequent — the 
causes  for  its  use  more  numerous.  A  woman  will  silently  and 
sweetly  walk  through  a  thoray  path,  where  she  is  pierced  and 
bruised  at  €very  step ;  but  who  will  look  on  her  meek  face  and 
call  her  a  heroine  ?  Who  will  see  how  she  checks  the  bitter 
cry  of  pain  upon  her  lips,  and  stills  the  throbbing  of  her  tor- 
tui'ed  heart  lest  its  pulsations  should  betray  the  struggle  for 
endurance?  She  may  go  on  to  the  end,  die  and  lie  quietly 
under  the  green  sod,  without  ever  having  heard  from  human 
lips  such  words  as  you  have  spoken  to  me.  Here  my  strength 
is  brought  out  in  another  way.  I  am  forced  to  give  active  and 
visible  aid,  which,  bringing  me  into  an  unusual  path,  lays  me 


AN   APPEAL   FOR    WOMAN.  151 

open  to  your  keen  and  wondering  observation.  This  work  is 
not  easy  or  light — you  know  that.  The  tax  upon  the  sympa- 
thies and  the  nerves,  is  sorely  trying.  But  I  tell  you  the  effort 
for  this  is  nothing  in  comparison  with  the  eftbrts  that  some 
duties  in  life  impose  upon  the  hardly  tried  of  my  sex.  Go  to 
any  of  our  city  grave-yards,  and  the  thousands  of  white  shafts 
shooting  upwards  will  bear  the  name,  and  recount  the  gentle 
excellencies  of  the  dead,  touchingly,  beautifully.  They  will 
not  tell  you  that  'hero  women'  sleep  there  forever  safe  from 
earthly  conflicts.  Ah,  sir,  yonder  red  field  of  Sliiloh  re- 
ceived not  the  precious  blood  of  more  surely  brave  mortals — 
openly  contending  to  their  death  for  victory  over  wrong  and 
oppression,  than  they.  As  women,  we  must  suffer  and  be  si- 
lent. Men  wrapped  in  their  own  strength  and  proud  self- 
consciousness  of  superiority,  have  willfully  closed  their  eyes 
against  the  truth,  until  it  is  impossible  for  them  to  see.  She 
is  doomed;  if  she  despair  not,  then  is  her  heroism  grander, 
loftier  for  that  reason.  The  Jews  of  old  were  not  more  cruel 
and  obstinate  in  their  disbelief  of  truth,  than  are  men  of  our 
own  day.  And  their  one  great  sacrifice  of  the  blessed  Son 
whom  God  sent  to  them,  was  scarcely  more  cruel,  certainly 
was  more  necessary,  than  the  thousand  meek  and  lowly  sacri- 
fices that  are  immolated  upon  the  altars  of  men's  inordinate 
selfi:<hness  in  the  present  century." 

Her  voice  had  deepened  and  grown  passionately  bitter. 
She  was  betraying  the  under-current  of  corroding  personal 
feeling  without  intending  it,  and  discovered  it  only  when  his 
curious  and  intent  gaze  told  what  impression  had  been  made 
upon  him.  Angry  with  herself  for  allowing  her  emotions  to 
swallow  up  discretion,  she  asked  him  abruptly  if  he  needed 
her  longer,  and  when  he  answered  in  the  negative,  hastened 
up  stairs  without  giving  him  an  opportunity  for  either  ques- 
tion or  comment  further. 

A  dozen  voices  called  to  her  as  she  entered  the  cabin,  and 
she  patiently  attended  to  their  wants,  answering  in  a  kind, 
quiet  way,  all  the  questions  they  put  to  her.     No  complaint 


152  A    STORY   OF   THE   GREAT  REBELLION, 

betrayed  weariness  to  them,  and  they  would  remark  often 
within  her  hearing,  upon  her  even,  steady  kindness  and  gentle 
ways.  Now,  as  like  expressions  fell  upon  her  ear,  a  sense  of 
humiliation  suddenly  swept  through  her  heart — a  strong,  mo- 
mentary self-loathing  which  caused  her  head  to  droop  low 
over  the  wounded  shoulder  she  was  examining. 

"Poor  fellows!"  she  thought  bitterly,  "in  their  grateful 
sense  of  small  kindnesses,  they  would  make  me  faultless, 
while  every  strong  impulse  of  my  nature  is  roused  and  at  war. 
Longing  for  good — hating  e\'il — I  am  still  a  living  lie,  and  it 
makes  me  despise  myself  to  know  it.  Oh,  for  escape,  for 
freedom  from  these  galling  chains.  When  can  I  fling  them 
off  and  be  myself  as  God  intended  me?" 

Mrs.  Xoble  appeared  at  the  door  beyond  and  seeing  her, 
came  close  to  where  she  knelt. 

"  Will  you  come  and  help  me,  Astrea,  when  you  have  fin- 
ished that?  The  Major's  arm  has  become  so  painful  it  must 
be  dressed,  and  I  am  so  afraid  of  hurting  him  if  I  undertake 
to  do  it  alone — I'm  so  nervous." 

"  Yes,  dear,  I  will  help  you  willingly." 

There  was  a  very  tender  tone  to  her  voice  now,  as  she  looke(* 
up  at  the  troubled  face  of  her  fi'iend.  She  knew  that  there 
was  as  much  dread  of  facing  that  foe  to  her  j^ride  and  self- 
control,  as  fear  of  hurting  the  husband's  arm,  in  Helen's  ap- 
peal for  assistance.  She  could  not  yet  look  upon  the  poor, 
maimed  member,  and  bear  the  affliction  calmly  enough  to  per^ 
form  her  work  well.  It  would  require  time  to  accustom  her 
to  bear  the  sight  of  the  ugly,  glaring  deformity. 

Rest  for  Miss  Harmon  seemed  out  of  the  question.  She 
had  not  more  than  completed  the  task  of  replacing  the  Major's 
bandages,  before  a  boy  came  to  say  that  Mr.  Meridan  desired 
to  see  her.  He  was  lying  upon  a  berth  in  his  state-room,  and 
the  doors  stood  wide  open  to  admit  the  air.  He  looked  up 
eagerly  as  she  approached  and  held  out  his  hand. 

"It  is  nearly  sundown,  and  in  all  this  time  vou  have  not 
been  near  me,"  he  said  in  a  half  reproachful  tone."     You 


UNTIRING   IN    WORKS    OF   MERCY.  153 

mi  "-lit,  at  least,  have  oiven  me  five  minutes  in  which  to  thank 
you  for  the  inestimable  service  rendered  to  me  this  mornuig. 
IIow  can  I  ever  repay  you?" 

"  By  never  again  alluding  to  it  as  a  service,"  she  answered. 
"There  was  nobody  else  to  do  anything,  and  common  human- 
ity, if  nothing  more,  would  have  forced  me  to  do  as  I  did.  I 
hope  you  feel  better." 

"  Not  much,  I  fear.  The  blow  on  my  head  was  violent,  and 
has  left  me  too  crazy  to  hold  it  up  with  any  degree  of  safety. 
I  suppose,  too,  the  heat  increases  its  tendency  to  ache.  The 
air  in  these  rooms  is  suffocatingly  hot." 

"Can  I  do  anything  to  make  you  more  comfortable?" 

"I  dislike  to  tax  your  kindness  so  much,  but  if  you  u'ould 
remove  this  linen  and  bathe  my  head  with  ice  water,  it  seems 
to  me  I  might  feel  some  relief." 

"  Certainly,"  and  the  patient  face  bent  over  him  as  readil}? 
as  it  had  bowed  over  others — the  untiring  fingers  worked  as 
skillfully  in  their  ever  recurring  task  of  giving  relief  to  the 
suffering.  He  closed  his  eyes  and  listened  to  the  earnest,  ir- 
regular breathing  which  betrayed  her  absorbed  attention  to 
that  which  occupied  her  thoughts,  while  now  and  then,  as  a 
faint  pure  breath  from  her  parted  lips  touched  his  cheeks  a 
delicious  thrill  ran  through  his  whole  frame.  How  soft  and 
steady  her  touch  was  upon  the  aching  brow!  No  quick, 
spasmodic  movements  strung  his  nerves  to  that  tingling  strain 
of  dread  Avhich  is  caused  by  an  unsteady  or  careless  hand. 
And  at  the  same  time  he  was  lingering  over  the  first  picture 
his  eye  rested  on  when  he  woke  to  consciousness — a  slender 
fio-ure  bowed,  with  a  sweet  face  hidden  from  sight,  while  low 
sobs  reached  him  as  he  lay  helpless  and  only  dimly  discerning 
what  had  happened  to  him.  He  had  recalled  that  picture 
many  times  as  he  listened  for  her  light  step  that  day.  Con- 
stantly his  ear  had  been  strained  to  catch  the  sound  of  hei 
voice ;  and  when  she  passed  his  door,  he  had  more  than  once 
tried  to  turn  his  head  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  her,  hoping  that 
she  Avould  come  to  inquire  after  his  welfare- 


154  A    STORY   OF   THE    GREAT   REBELLION. 

There  was  much  that  was  good  and  o-enerous  in  INIr.  Merl- 
dan's  nature,  though  not  incapable  of  stooping  to  unworthy- 
things,  as  we  have  already  seen.  He  remembered  the  feelings 
of  chagrin  which  had  prompted  him  both  to  distrust  her  and 
to  wish  to  cause  others  to  distrust  her.  Eecallinor  these  now 
with  her  touch  upon  his  face,  and  that  picture  of  distress  in  his 
mind,  one  great  wave  of  shame  swept  up  and  dyed  his  face 
crimson.  Astrea  saw  it  and  thought  him  in  great  pain,  which 
softened  her  manner  and  increased  his  uneasiness.  If  he  had 
wronged  her,  certainly  the  swift  fading  away  of  a  keen  de- 
lio-ht  into  the  sudden  shame  and  anguish  of  remembrance, 
was  a  sufficient  punishment. 

"  Is  that  better  now  ?  Do  you  think  you  will  feel  more  com- 
fortable?" 

'*  O,  yes,  thank  you.  Miss  Harmon ;  you  are  very  kind  to 
me.     I  do  not  at  all  deserve  it.     Will  you  come  again  soon?" 

"If  possible  once  more  to-night.  If  not  I  will  see  you  be- 
fore I  get  off  the  boat  to-morrow  morning.  We  are  about  to 
run  down  to  Savannah  where  we  shall  just  touch  shore  for  a 
short  time.  I  believe  it  is  the  intention  then  to  go  on  down 
the  river.  Sometime  in  the  forenoon,  they  will  let  us  off  at 
Paducah." 

"  And  I  may  never  see  you  again !  " 

"Probably  not.  But  I  hope  you  may  soon  recover  and  be 
strong  again.  It  was  quite  unlucky  to  have  met  with  such  an 
accident  just  now,  when  you  were  hoping  to  be  useful  to 
others." 

Another  pang  of  shame.  He  had  not  sought  to  be  useful 
to  others  for  the  sake  of  being  useful,  but  had  offered  his  ser- 
vices in  order  to  secure  to  himself  the  privilege  of  visiting  the 
battle-field  and  seeing  what  was  to  be  seen  in  a  new  country. 
He  knew  that  with  his  small  stock  of  knowledge,  he  was  not 
competent  to  undertake  what  his  assurance  and  curiosity  had 
led  him  into.  Had  this  lesson  been  sent  to  him  because  of 
his  selfishness  and  deception?  Her  presence  had  been  to  him 
a  sweet  pain,  yet  he  longed  to  detain  her.     The  sharp  torture 


HELPLESS   AND    DEPENDEXT.  155 

of  self-reproach  Avas  better  even,  than  tlie  sIlencG  and  loneli- 
ness with  his  own  thoughts  and  unheeded  longings  as  he  lay 
there  almost  forgotten  among  so  many.  And  what  right  had 
he  here  in  the  midst  of  those  who  were  stru<x<xlin2:  for  a  noble 
cause — he  who  had  stood  off  with  a  scoff  and  a  sneer,  taking 
advantage  of  every  means  of  information  in  the  affairs  of  a 
great  Republic,  only  to  array  himself  with  sharper  weapons 
for  assailing  its  politics,  habits  and  prejudices  ?  Now  he  Avas 
stretched  helplessly  among  their  helpless,  and  at  their  mercy — 
dependent  upon  the  kindness  of  those  he  had  scorned  and  de- 
rided, for  every  comfort  and  attention.  This  was  not  a  very 
sweet  cup  for  the  proud  young  Englishman  to  find  pressed  to 
his  lips,  but  he  was  compelled  to  drink  it  and  be  silent,  no 
matter  how  2:allino;  the  drauo;ht. 

She  did  not  come  to  him  again  that  night,  and  he  waited 
vainly  until  quite  late,  longing  for  her  return  if  but  for  one 
moment.  That  would  have  satisfied  him — only  one  minute — 
just  to  have  her  wet  the  bandages  on  his  head  and  then  say 
in  her  quiet,  gentle  way,  "  Good-night,  INIr.  Meridan."  Per- 
haps she  would  add  a  hope  that  he  might  rest  Avell,  and  then 
he  would  lie  and  think  about  it — recall  her  look  and  her  tone 
until  sleep  came,  when  the  sweet  vision  would  be  reproduced 
in  dreams.  This  had  been  the  hope  which  had  fed  his  fancy 
until  past  midnight.  He  could  not  hope  she  would  come  after 
that,  and  turned  his  face  to  the  pillow  wearily,  much  disap- 
pointed and  aggrieved.  There  was  some  comfort  in  thinking 
himself  wronged  and  neo-lected,  as  it  blunted  the  edo-e  of  his 
self-reproach.  She  might  have  given  him  a  little  of  her  pre- 
cious time  out  of  pure  humanity,  since  her  life  was  professedly 
devoted  to  the  welfare  of  others.  How  quickly  he  forgot  the 
recognition  of  his  own  false  position.  Men  change  in  their 
reasoning  as  the  winds  shift  from  east  to  Avest,  and  from  north 
to  south,  Avhen  inclination  comes  in  contact  Avith  judgment. 
And  noAv,  instead  of  arraigning  himself  further  for  deception 
and  uuAvorthiness,  he  employed  the  tcdioTis  hours  in  fretfully 
finding  fault  Avith  the  Avoman  who  had  suddenly  taken  a  hold 


156  A   STORY    OF   THE    GREAT   REBELLION. 

upon  him  so  strong,  that  he  had  neither  the  will  nor  the  wish 
to  shake  it  off. 

Meanwhile  the  little  weary  feet  had  trodden  the  cabin 
floor  back  and  forth  until  every  limb  ached  with  intense 
fatigue.  She  had  not  been  allowed  to  take  needful  re- 
fireshment  unmolested.  Those  who  made  demands  upon  her, 
seemed  to  think  only  of  themselves.  Her  fair  face,  and  gentle, 
soothing  touch  were  so  much  more  pleasant  than  the  atten- 
tions of  another,  no  one  hesitated  to  call  on  her,  but  rather 
sought  to  monopolize  all  the  time  they  could,  never  pausing 
to  consider  that  she  mio-ht  need  rest  and  refreshment  more  than 
they.  Many  times  after  she  had  crept  away  to  her  berth,  too 
weary  to  sleep,  she  heard  them  calling  for  her  and  sighed 
heavily.  There  was  excuse  enough  for  the  suffering  ones. 
With  those  who  had  faced  death  and  endured  evil  for  her  sake, 
she  could  be  patient.  But  it  Avas  not  so  easy  to  bear  the  un- 
reasonable demands  of  others.  When  one  after  another  of 
the  surgeons  on  board  asked  for  her  within  her  hearing,  each 
wdshino-  her  assistance  in  some  work  of  his  own,  it  was  difficult 
to  keep  down  a  keen  feeling  of  resentment  and  indignation. 
Why  should  they  impose  upon  her?  How  was  it  that  they 
could  not  see  that  she  was  almost  exhausted.  Following  this 
train  of  thought,  her  mind  merged  into  a  state  of  general  dis- 
satisfaction and  disgust,  and  for  the  moment,  all  the  zeal  in 
her  nature  faded  out.  She  was  sick  and  tired  and  hopeless. 
There  seemed  nothino;  to  live  for  or  care  for.  Life  was  a  mis- 
erable  failure.  Nothing  but  constant  snarls,  and  entangle- 
ments, vexations  and  weariness  of  mind  and  body.  She 
thought  it  would  be  sweet  to  sleep  out  there  under  the  stars, 
where  so  many  of  the  unknown  and  noble  of  America's  sons 
had  fallen  and  now  shnuliered  dreamlessly.  Ah,  why  could 
not  she  have  gone  in  the  stead  of  any  one  of  these  ?  Then 
came  more  chaotic  thought,  followed  by  a  blank  after  the  dire 
confusion,  and  she  slept. 

With  the  eai-ly  dawn,  the  Lancaster  stopped  at  Savannah, 
and  there  remained  all  dav.     The  wounded  men  were  stowed 


WORN   AND    WEAKY,  YET   VIGILANT.  157 

away  wherever  there  was  a  vacant  spot  large  enough  t<i 
hold  them,  and  many  were  in  a  most  lamentable  state  o' 
distress.  Our  doctors  imited  in  their  efforts  to  give  rcliel 
and  for  the  greater  part  of  tho  day,  were  engaged  on  shore, 
leaving  the  care  of  those  on  board  to  the  ladies,  one  sur- 
o-eon  remaining  with  them,  who  was  relieved  by  the  others 
alternately. 

A  heavy  rap  on  Astrea's  door  roused  her  from  a  feverish, 
unrefreshing  sleep,  and  she  arose  to  the  duties  of  the  day  be- 
fore her,  less  willingly  than  ever  before.  The  weight  on  heart 
and  brain  was  so  heavy,  and  her  physical  strength  was  yield- 
infT  to  the  large  tax  upon  her  energies  so  fast.  Knowing  this, 
a  sort  of  despairing  helplessness  came  over  her  and  she  sank 
back  upon  her  berth  with  a  half  resolve  to  abandon  the  effort ; 
but  a  moment's  thought  changed  her  feelings,  and  with  a 
heartfelt  prayer  for  strength  to  forget  self  and  remember  only 
the  need  of  others,  she  made  her  simple  toilet  and  went  forth 
among  the  inmates  of  the  cabin.  Contact  Avith  them  wrought 
an  immediate  change  in  all  her  feelings.  Her  nerves  grew 
strong — her  interest  and  sympathy  keen,  while  her  whole  be- 
ing seemed  charged  with  new  life,  as  she  moved  among  them 
and  heard  their  glad  greetings,  and  saw  their  happier  smiles 
on  recognizing  her  presence. 

"  It  is  more  blessed  to  give  than  to  receive,"  she  murmured 
lowly  to  herself.  "  Joy  like  this  comes  from  nothing  else  on 
earth;  and  yet  I  was  tempted  to  nurse  my  own  unhappy 
thoughts  and  leave  these  poor  men  to  the  care  of  others.  Oh, 
longing  heart,  be  still  and  learn  this  lesson  well,  '  It  is  more 
blessed  to  give  than  to  receive.' " 

Toward  the  close  of  the  afternoon  she  remembered  Mr. 
ISIeridan  and  went  to  look  for  him.  The  door  of  his  room 
stood  open,  and  he  sat  outside  watching  the  people  on  shore 
with  a  weary  desolation  in  his  look  that  reproached  her.  His 
face  was  so  pale  and  sad,  it  was  a  reproach  in  itself. 

"Did  you  quite  forget  me.  Miss  Harmon?  or  have  you 
taken  this  mode  of  retaliating  upon  me  for  disagreeing  with 


158  A   STORY    OF   THE   GREAT   EEBELLIOX. 

you  the  other  evening?"  he  asked  as  she  came  and  stood  be- 
side him. 

"  I  hope  you  cannot  think  so  meanly  of  me  as  to  charge  me 
with  so  unworthy  a  spirit,  Mr.  Meridan.  If  I  could  stoop  to 
retaliation  at  aU,  it  would  not  be  possible  in  taking  advantage 
of  your  suffering  to  make  you  feel  any  resentment  I  might  con- 
ceive of  your  opinions  as  expressed  in  opposition  to  my  own." 

"  Then  why  did  you  not  come  to  see  me  last  night  or  to- 
day?" 

"Some  one  constantly  wanted  me,  and  I  could  not  get  a 
moment's  leave,"  she  answered.  At  the  same  time  a  peculiar 
smile  dawned  upon  her  face.  She  thoughtfully  regarded  some 
distant  object  for  a  few  minutes,  then  held  up  one  little  hand 
before  him. 

"I  am  not  complaining,  Mr.  Meridan,  but  I  do  not  want 
you  to  think  meanly  or  unkindly  of  me.  This  is  Monday. 
Since  Sunday — one  week  ago  yesterday,  I  have  not  slept  in 
any  night  more  than  three  or  four  hours — sometimes  less. 
Since  last  Thursday  I  have  not  taken  one  meal  uninterruptedly. 
How  much  longer  do  you  suppose  I  can  bear  this  and  con- 
tinue to  be  useful?" 

"  You  ought  not  to  try  it,"  he  burst  out  impulsively.  "  We 
are  brutes — selfish  and  blind  as  moles  not  to  see  that  you  are 
killing  yourself.  Your  hand  is  almost  transparent.  You 
must  give  up  and  rest." 

"  No  need  of  that,  I  hope.  If  I  could  only  make  a  fair 
division  of  my  time  for  rest  and  labor,  I  should  do  very  well. 
But  no  one  seems  to  see  the  necessity,  and  it  is  not  agreeable 
to  be  obliged  to  tell  them  of  it." 

"You  would  not  have  told  me  if  I  had  not  charged  you 
with  a  wish  to  be  revenged  on  me? " 

"No." 

"And  would  have  gone  on  and  killed  yourself  without  a 
Sign. 

"I  could  not  die  in  a  better  cause,  perhaps." 

"  You  are  very  devoted  to  your  country." 


"faithful  to  the  last."  159 

"Devoted  heart  and  soul!"  with  an  unmistakable  ring  in 
her  voice  which  said,  "Before  all  things  else." 

"Why  is  it  so? — you  are  an  English  born  woman.  Are 
there  no  instinctive  yearnings  for  that  land  which  gave  you 
birth?" 

"  Mr.  Meridan,  if  a  mother  should  put  her  child  into  another 
woman's  arms  and  turn  away  from  it,  laying  between  herself 
and  that  child  a  gap  of  silent,  unbroken  years — denying  it  the 
tender  love  and  care  of  the  real  parent,  while  the  adopted 
mother  was  more  than  tender,  loving  and  kind,  would  you  call 
the  child  unnatural  or  ungrateful  if,  when  she  came  to  be  a 
reasoning,  responsible  being,  she  found  no  affection  in  her 
heart  for  the  one  who  had  abandoned  her  to  strangers  ?  " 

"  Certainly  not." 

"Then  wonder  no  more  if  my  heart  clings  to  the  land  of 
my  adoption.  vShe  is  '  mother-land '  to  me — noble,  grand,  be^ 
loved  America!  Her  laws  have  sheltered  me — her  children 
have  been  my  brothers  and  my  sisters  and  friends.  Outside 
of  this  land  I  have  nothing — English  llj)s  have  been  silent  and 
cold.  Her  maternal  kiss  has  never  pressed  my  broAV — her 
parental  voice  never  spoken  my  name.  How  can  I  love  or 
care  for  England,  lying  as  I  lie.  In  the  bosom  of  an  American 
mother  whose  lips  are  ever  warm,  whose  voice  is  always  ten- 
der— whose  arms  are  constant  to  enfold  me  in  a  faithful  em- 
brace? Oh,  fair  blue  skies  of  this  sun-bright  land — I  have 
lived  beneath  you  in  joy  and  pain !  I  will  die  beneath  you  in 
joy  or  pain  as  God  wills — faithful  to  the  last." 

She  spoke  the  closing  words  half  under  her  breath,  looking 
up  at  the  cloudless  expanse  of  blue  above  her.  Twenty-four 
hours  previous,  he  would  have  curled  his  lip,  and  muttered 
"enthusiast,"  listening  to  the  fervent  apostrophe  which  proved 
her  love  for  an  adopted  land.  Now  he  heard  her  with  a  thrill 
of  sympathy,  and  a  dawning  sense  of  honor  for  her  devotion 
to  that  which  alone  she  had  known  in  the  light  of  a  friend. 
Her  sense  of  right  was  both  stronsf  and  just — even  generous. 
She  was  faithful  to  principle  and  above  prejudice — a  character 


160  A   STORY   or   THE    GREAT   REBELLION. 

set  apart,  marked  and  individual,  not  too  pliant,  or  too  plastic 
to  receive  impressions  unsanctioned  by  reflection.  This  vv^as 
the  ground  on  which  he  chose  to  base  his  love,  for  he  did  not 
deny  that  he  was  fast  coming  to  love  this  strange,  lovely  wo- 
man— he  who  had  laughed  at  woman's  pretensions  to  character 
and  intellect — who  had  a  thousand  times  declared  her  inca- 
pable of  more  than  reflecting  the  man,  mirror-like — at  best. 
His  theory  had  been,  that  woman's  mind  was  like  wax  to  re- 
ceive every  new  impression,  retaining  nothing,  but  having 
each  impress  effaced  by  the  one  following  after,  and  changing 
in  action  accordingly,  as  the  chameleon  changes  its  colors.  The 
fitful  flames  of  feeling  burned  in  her  heart  in  color  suiting  that 
which  fed  them,  but  never  always  the  same.  Here  was  a 
woman  whose  light  was  clear,  strong,  steady  and  unfaltering. 
He  saw  it — longed  to  reach  a  point  where  the  rays  might  fall 
upon  himself  and  bless  him  with  its  pure  brilliance.  She  had 
started  a  revolution  in  his  nature  already — shattered  more 
than  one  of  his  pet  theories  and  forced  him  mentally  to  retract 
much  that  was  detrimental  to  the  honor  of  her  sex  for  her 
sake.  He  did  not  need  to  stoop  to  draw  her  up  by  labored 
efforts  to  his  level.  She  stood  upon  an  equal  footing  and 
looked  with  clear  and  steady  eyes  upon  the  same  objects  with 
himself.  If  he  saw  with  different  aspect  those  objects,  she  did 
not  shrink  from  defending  her  own  views,  while  she  avoided 
arrogating  the  sole  right  of  judgment  to  herself.  At  times 
she  of  her  own  strength,  mounted  higher,  penetrated  deeper 
than  he,  conceding  to  his  superiority  in  other  things  where 
her  woman's  feet  might  not  pass  the  bounds  that  necessarily 
limited  her  means  for  acquiring  knowledge.  She  would  make 
no  attempts  to  discuss  subjects  with  which  she  was  not  so 
closely  brought  in  contact  as  to  allow  her  mind  to  receive  it 
freely,  and  digest  it  in  all  its  bearings.  She  did  not  talk  for 
the  sake  of  proving  what  she  knew  and  displaying  her  con- 
versational powers.  She  spoke  because  the  earnest,  underly- 
ing current  of  feeling  in  her  nature,  forced  her  to  give  vent  to 
the  truths  which  she  recognized  and  often  saw  abused  or  un- 


TANTALIZED   AND    DISArrOINTED.  161 

appreciated.  He  recognized  in  her  the  only  type  of  Words* 
worth's  ideal  perfection — 

"  A  perfect  woman,  nobly  planned 
To  warm,  to  comfort,  to  command — " 

and  he  began  to  think,  as  the  spell  of  her  presence  grew 
stronger  upon  him,  that  it  would  be  the  supremacy  of  happi- 
ness to  yield  himself  up  to  her — her  whims,  her  will,  her  com- 
mands— if  he  might,  in  return,  have  her  love  undivided. 

"  Miss  Harmon,  is  it  your  intention  to  continue  in  your  pres- 
ent course  until  the  war  ends?"  he  asked,  after  a  considerable 
pause. 

"  Yes,  if  my  health  does  not  give  way.  I  have  nothing  else 
to  employ  me." 

"  You  are  not  so  masculine  in  your  tastes  as  to  ignore  the 
usual  employments  of  ladies,  are  you?" 

"  Xo ;  but  just  now  embroidery  or  crochet  are  not  precisely 
the  things  to  employ  brain  and  hands.  I  must  have  something 
more  active  and  all-absorbins." 

"  Why  ?  Because  you  are  so  interested  in  the  result  of  your 
national  struo;o;le?" 

"Partly  for  that  reason — partly  for  a  more  selfish  and  per- 
sonal object.  See,  they  are  casting  off  the  fastenings,  and  pre- 
paring to  leave !  I  am  glad,  for  now  we  shall  have  a  breath 
of  fresh  air,  which  will  be  a  blessing." 

No  one  could  get  further  into  her  personal  affairs  than  that. 
It  was  tantalizing  in  the  extreme. 

"  Please  do  not  go  yet,  Miss  Harmon,"  as  she  turned  to  re- 
enter the  cabin.  "I  wish  to  ask  if  you  will  permit  me  to 
come  back  and  see  you,  when  I  shall  have  recovered  from  this 
unlucky  accident.  You  will  still  be  at  Paducah  probably,  and 
in  the  course  of  a  week  or  two  I  shall  be  coming  this  way 
again.     It  would  afford  me  so  much  pleasure  to  meet  you." 

"If  circumstances  should  throw  us  together  as  now,  I  should 
be  pleased  to  see  you,  Mr.  Meridan,"  she  said  politely. 

"But  I  want  to  come  expressly  to  see  you,  Miss  Harmon. 
11 


162       A  STORY  OF  THE  GREAT  REBELLION. 

We  do  not  like  to  say  good-bye  forever  to  those  to  whom  we 
owe  our  lives.     Your  care  saved  mine." 

"  O,  no;  you  attach  too  much  importance  to  that  slight  ser- 
vice. And  I  should  do  wrong  to  bid  you  come  to  see  me, 
when  I  have  no  time  to  spare  to  my  best  and  nearest  friends." 

"Shall  I  then  see  you  no  more?" 

"Probably  never  again." 

"And  you  can  say  it  without  the  slightest  regret?  We 
have  been  thrown  together  under  peculiar  circumstances ;  and 
such,  seldom  fail  to  awaken  peculiar  interests.  I  had  hoped 
that  I  was  not  so  wholly  disagreeable  or  indifferent  as  you 
make  me  feel  myself." 

"Mr.  Meridan,  my  business  is  with  the  duties  of  life,  and 
not  its  pleasures,  apart  from  its  duties.  Engaged  in  them  I 
forget  all  else,  without  wish  to  remember  anything.  Speak- 
ing of  them  reminds  me  that  I  have  remained  too  long  away, 
and  must  go  back  to  my  patients." 

"  Am  not  I  a  patient  also,  and  will  you  refuse  me  a  moment 
and  give  all  to  others?  Have  you  no  binding  sense  of  duty 
towards  me?" 

"I  should,  were  you  as  helpless  as  others,  but  you  seem  to 
be  doing  well,  and  I  cannot  do  more  than  talk  to  you." 

"Kind  words  are  better  than  medicine  to  some  people. 
They  are  life  to  me.  Let  me  share  a  small  portion  of  your 
generous  store." 

He  was  persistent  and  she  was  growing  uneasy.  Doctor 
Clarke  luckily  passing,  relieved  her  with  a  message  from  jMfs. 
Noble,  and  she  escaped  gladly  from  her  unpleasant  position. 
He  did  not  see  her  again  until  the  following  morning  when 
she  left  with  her  friends  at  Paducah,  and  in  passing  his  door, 
bade  him  good-bye  in  a  subdued  and  tremulous  tcaie.  Her 
face  was  wet  with  tears,  caused  by  the  expressed  regrets  of 
those  she  was  leaving  behind  her,  and  that  last  glimpse  of  it 
never  faded  from  his  memory. 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

PRISON    PENS    AND    REFUGEES. 

The  day  succeeding  the  battle  was  a  memorable  one  to 
Captain  Wilfer,  who  with  several  officers  and  a  number  of 
men,  had  been  closely  guarded  and  kept  within  sound  of  the 
strife  until  the  issue  was  decided.  As  Beauregard  withdrew 
his  forces,  acknowledging  himself  unable,  by  this  act,  to  cope 
with  the  enemy,  the  Confederate  troops  who  had  not  suffered 
in  the  conflict,  became  furious  and  wild  with  rage.  The 
guards  who  held  the  prisoners  in  charge  seemed  bent  on  sati- 
ating their  thirst  for  revenge  upon  their  unarmed  victims,  and 
di'ove  them  forward,  with  bound  hands,  like  so  many  animals, 
sometimes  lashing  them  sharply  with  whips,  and  heaping  upon 
them  every  abuse  and  indignity  which  cruel  and  degraded 
natures  could  invent. 

In  the  early  dawn,  after  the  Confederate  forces  had  with- 
drawn from  the  field,  the  Captain  found  himself  with  a  dozen 
or  more  unlucky  officers,  the  inmate  of  a  filthy  box  car, 
which  waited  at  Corinth  to  receive  and  bear  them  farther 
south.  They  were  weary  and  hungry,  having  eaten  scarcely 
anything  for  more  than  twenty-four  hours.  Sleep  had  been 
strange  to  their  eyes  while  the  crisis  of  a  great  battle  had  been 
pending,  and  by  the  time  it  was  past,  and  our  victory  com- 
plete, they  had  been  hurried  away,  marching  on  foot  over 
rough  and  muddy  roads,  until  Corinth  was  reached.  Here 
no  rations  were  served  to  them  until  after  the  cars  had  started, 
when  a  man  came  in  and  tossed  a  few  hard  crackers  into  their 


164  A   STORY    OF   THE   GREAT  REBELLION. 

midst — a  sorry  meal  for  hungry,  almost  famished  men;  but 
they  ate  them  ravenously,  and  were  glad  even  for  this  small 
means  of  satiating  the  intense  longing  for  food. 

At  every  station  as  they  went  South,  the  people  gathered 
around  their  car,  laughing,  hissing  at  and  mocking  them ;  in- 
dulo-ingr  in  threats,  and  continuino;  abuses  that  were  almost 
beyond  human  endurance.  Children  climbed  up  and  peeping 
at  them  through  the  little  square  windows,  threw  in  pebbles 
a»d  dirt,  pointing  their  small  fingers  and  spitting  at  them  ma- 
liciously. It  was  horrible  to  hear  the  round  reckless  oaths 
that  rolled  from  the  childish  lips,  taught  to  them  by  those 
whose  religion  seemed  to  consist  in  their  ability  to  outvie  all 
others  in  indignity  to  the  "  Yanks,"  whose  "  skulls  they  were 
waiting  to  convert  into  drinking  cups ! "  They  were  regaled 
with  promises  of  all  the  ills  which  heated  and  lively  imagina- 
tions could  invent,  and  which  were  said  to  be  awaiting  them 
at  the  end  of  their  journey. 

Their  destination  was  Selma,  Alabama,  at  which  place  they 
arrived  after  a  long  and  fearfully  tedious  ride  of  several  days. 

The  prison  was  a  long,  low  building,  containing  neither 
beds,  tables  or  chairs.  A  quantity  of  straw  cast  upon  the 
floor  afforded  them  the  only  resting-place  they  could  hope  to 
stretch  their  weary  frames  upon ;  and  even  this  was  inviting 
in  their  present  state  of  exhaustion.  The  moment  Captain 
T\^lfer  found  himself  in  the  dismal  abode,  which  he  knew 
might  be  his  only  abiding-place  for  many  days,  his  philosophy 
came  to  his  rescue,  and  resolving  to  make  the  best  of  his  con- 
dition, he  threw  himself  upon  the  floor,  and  turning  his  face  t& 
the  wall,  soon  fell  asleep.  A  general  smile  went  round  the 
circle  of  his  comrades  as  his  heavy  breathing  betrayed  his 
rapid  transition  to  the  happy  world  of  visions. 

"  Cool,"  remarked  one,  and  another  heartily  wisl^ed  he  could 
take  the  world  as  easily  as  Wilfer. 

Our  fi'iend  slept  soundly  until  the  hour  came  round  for  serv- 
ing the  prisoners  with  their  rations,  when  a  brother  officer 
shook  and  woke  him. 


PKISOX    RATIONS.  165 

"  You  must  be  hungry,  old  fellow,  and  our  friend,  the  keeper, 
says  it  is  time  to  take  our  '  grub.'  Come  and  let  us  see  what 
it  is  like." 

The  Captain  raised  himself  upon  his  elbow,  then  slowly  came 
to  a  sitting  posture,  looking  steadfastly  at  the  deep  tin  plate 
which  contained  a  sort  of  soup  anything  but  inviting.  Be- 
side the  plate  lay  a  huge  piece  of  corn  bread  which  he  took 
up  and  tasted. 

At  this  moment  a  black  face  peered  through  one  of  the 
windows,  and  the  Captain  called  to  the  possessor : 

"  Hullo!  uncle!     Can  you  tell  me  what  this  is?" 

"  Dat's  a  com-pone,  massa." 

"Well,  will  you  initiate  me  into  the  mysteries  of  its  compo- 
sition?" 

"Dunno  what  massa  means  by  that." 

"Tell  me  how  these  'corn-pones'  are  made." 

"O,  yah!  yah!  dat's  what  massa  moans  by  pomposition. 
Yah !  Well,  de  way  my  ole  'oman  makes  'em,  she  jes  takes 
a  big  wooden  tray,  an  puts  in  it  a  lot  o'  meal.  Den  she  puts 
some  salt,  ef  she's  got  any — salt's  been  mighty  sca'ce  lately — 
an'  pours  cole  Avater  in  it,  an'  mixes  it  up  wid  her  han's  till 
de  dough's  kinder  stiff  like.  Den  she  takes  up  as  much  as 
she  can  hole  in  bofe  hans'  an'  rolls  it  ober  two  or  tree  times, 
gibs  it  a  little  pat  an'  souses  it  into  a  hot  skillet.  Den  she 
puts  on  de  lid,  cobers  it  wid  hot  coals,  an'  lets  it  bake.  Dat's 
de  way  to  make  nice  corn  dodgers,  massa." 

"But  you  said  'pones.'" 

"O,  dat's  all  de  same.  Don't  you  nebber  hab  corn  dodgers 
up  nort,  massa?" 

"Not  exactly  like  this.  Do  you  live  on  this  kind  of  bread 
here?" 

"Mostly.  Sometimes  we  bakes  de  pone  in  de  ashes — some- 
times pats  it  on  a  board  and  sets  it  up  before  de  fire — dat's  de 
way  to  make  'Johnny-cake.'  An  agin  we  makes  great  big 
loaf,  like  light  bread.  AYhen  we  usen  to  git  holidays,  ole 
massa  let  us  habe  biskits.     Lor !  git  away !     Dcm  biskits  what 


166       A  STORY  OF  THE  GREAT  REBELLION. 

my  ole  'oman  usen  to  make  n'd  make  yer  mouf  water — dey 
would  shure ! " 

Here  the  darkey  suddenly  ducked  his  head  and  took  to  his 
heels,  the  sentinel  yelling  after  him  with  loud  threats.  Our 
friends  were  hungry  indeed,  but  more  than  one  laid  his  bread 
aside,  unable  to  appreciate  the  excellencies  of  its  manufacture. 
A  young  lieutenant,  more  hardy  than  the  others,  had  swal- 
lowed a  few  mouthfuls,  and  was  zealously  fishing  about  in  his 
soup  for  the  small  pieces  of  bacon,  which  were  floating  in  a 
mass  of  smaller  objects. 

"What  have  you  there,  Harding?"  asked  the  Captain. 

"What  vessels  cannot  do  without,  yet  seldom  boast  more 
than  one  of.  I  have  floating  upon  this  tide,  more  than  my 
share  of — skippers ! " 

"And  you  will  not  have  them?  You  remind  me  of  the 
fisherman  I  once  heard  of." 

"Well?" 

"  He  stood  upon  the  banks  of  a  stream  fishing  industriously. 
The  fish  baited  well,  and  every  minute  he  di-ew  up  a  plump 
little  fellow  which  he  no  sooner  saw  than  he  deliberately  took 
them  off  the  hook  and  threw  them  back  ajjain.  Some  one 
who  had  watched  his  proceedings  with  extreme  surprise  and 
curiosity,  stepped  forward  and  asked  him  what  he  meant  by 
throwing:  his  fish  ag-ain  into  the  stream. 

" '  When  I  fish  for  catties,  I  fish  for  catties,'  he  answered 
determinedly,  and  turned  his  back  upon  the  questioner.  I  see 
you  are  after  the  'catties'  and  will  have  nothing  else." 

"  And  the  '  catties '  I  cannot  get  because  of  the  pesky  little 
'minnows'  about  them!  Guess  I'll  give  up  'fishing'  for  to- 
day," and  he  pushed  the  plate  away  from  him  with  a  shudder 
of  disgust. 

The  next  day  and  the  next  brought  no  change  of  fare,  and 
our  prisoners  found  themselves  driven  by  hunger  to  partake 
of  whatever  was  brought  them,  glad  of  a  generous  portion  of 
what  was  served.  A  hope  for  escape  or  exchange  urged  upon 
each  of  them  the  necessity  for  preserving  their  strength ;  and 


DYING   BY   INCHES.  167 

they  were  not  only  patient,  but  cheerful,  as  long  as  health 
continued.  Gradually  as  the  intense  heat  of  the  summer  came 
on,  however,  they  began  to  pine  and  fall  sick  under  the  hard 
fare,  close  confinement  and  suffocating  atmosphere.  One  after 
another  grew  pale  and  feeble,  moving  about  with  slow  and 
faltering  steps  until  finally  prostrated,  only  to  be  carried  out 
in  the  end,  with  a  laugh  and  a  jest,  and  buried  within  sight 
of  the  prison — "uncofiined  and  unknelled."  Those  who  re- 
mained behind  grew  desperate  and  almost  hopeless,  not  know- 
ing whose  turn  would  come  next.  Jests  no  longer  passed 
amonor  the  remaininor  few  and  smiles  were  rare  indeed.  When 
not  pacing  the  floor  or  little  strip  of  ground  allowed  them  for 
exercise,  they  sat  with  their  faces  bowed  upon  their  knees  in 
sad  and  bitter  reflection. 

Captain  Wilfer  found  himself  growing  weaker  day  by  day, 
and  knew  that  a  brief  space  of  time  would  serve  to  render 
him  helpless.  The  thought  was  unbearable.  He  was  too 
young  and  fuU  of  hope  to  give  up  life  without  a  struggle. 
And  to  die  thus — cooped  up  in  a  miserable  southern  prison, 
was  terrible.  Desperation  gave  birth  to  a  firm  resolve.  He 
would  escape  or  die  in  the  effort.  Better  death  in  striving  for 
freedom,  than  a  slow,  lingering  torture  like  this,  with  a  grave 
In  the  end,  unmarked  and  unhonored! 


Many  weeks  had  passed  away,  and  many  changes  had 
marked  the  course  of  Astrea  Harmon.  "We  find  her  on  a 
sultry  August  evening,  sitting  before  a  small  table  busily  ply- 
ing her  needle — much  thinner  and  more  weary  looking,  but 
none  the  less  determined  than  when  she  stood  on  the  guards 
of  the  Lancaster  talkinjj  to  Mr.  ]Meridan.  Two  tallow  can- 
dies  were  upon  the  table;  but  with  the  light  of  both,  the 
room  is  still  dim — Its  plain,  gloomy  furniture  looking  gloomier 
in  the  obscurity.  The  article  upon  which  she  is  engaged  is 
but  little  whiter  than  the  sad  face  bending  over  it ;  and  if  you 
look  closely,  you  may  at  times  see  the  glitter  of  a  tear  in  the 
folds.     But  the  busy  fingers  never  cease  until  the  last  stitch 


188  A   STORY    OF   THE   GREAT   EEBELLIOX. 

is  finished ;  tlien  she  rises  and  folds  up  the  long  garment'  nnd 
lays  it  on  the  table  while  she  finds  a  light  shawl  which  she 
throws  over  her  head.  Taking  up  the  package,  she  opens  the 
door  and  looks  out  upon  the  night,  still,  calm  and  radiant  with 
moon  and  stars.  As  far  as  the  eye  can  see,  gleam  the  lights 
of  camp  and  town,  for  our  troops  are  now  at  Corinth,  and 
Astrea  is  boarding  with  a  widowed  woman  whose  sole  de- 
pendence for  daily  bread,  is  upon  the  kindness  and  protective 
influence  of  her  lodger. 

Drawing  the  shawl  more  closely  about  her  face,  Astrea 
steps  forth,  and  glides  swiftly  over  the  space  intervening  be- 
tween her  dwelling  and  the  depot.  It  is  a  strange  place  to  go, 
and  she  has  hesitated  often,  dreading  the  duty  and  longing  to 
thrust  it  away  from  her ;  but  there  is  too  much  already  crowded 
into  future  hours.  The  morrow  will  bring  its  own  and  more 
than  she  can  accomplish  of  perplexing  duties;  and,  besides, 
there  are  haunting  memories  which  will  not  be  smothered,  and 
she  is  forced  to  listen  to  the  demands  they  make  upon  her — 
memories  of  mothers  bowed  in  grief,  pleading  with  broken 
words  and  tears,  that  the  children  whom  God  has  chosen  to 
take  from  them, may  be  "put  away  decently."  How  she  has 
toiled  to  gratify  those  natural  longings !  What  efforts  has  she 
not  made  to  find  shrouds  and  coffins  for  those  little  ones !  And, 
now,  as  she  enters  the  depot  and  looks  around  upon  the  scene, 
more  grim  and  ghastly  in  the  night  time,  with  the  glare  of  lan- 
terns lighting  it  up  here  and  there,  a  great  sob  swells  in^  her 
throat,  and  leaning  her  head  against  a  pile  of  freight,  the  tear« 
fall  unrestrainedly." 

"Oh,  God,"  she  murmured,  "to  see  such  sights  as  this,  and 
to  know  that  there  is  many  a  luxurious  home  where  no  want 
is  known,  no  loved  form  missed !  And  yet  men  and  women, 
who  have  not  'seen'  or  'heard,'  will  stand  up  with  long  faces 
and  talk  of  the  '  horrors  of  war ' — moving  no  hand  to  help,  nor 
sparing  one  penny  fi-om  their  generous  store  to  drive  starva- 
tion from  such  beings  as  these!  Oh,  are  their  hearts  stone, 
and  wilt  thou  not  melt  them  to  pity?" 


DESTITUTION    OF    SOUTHERN   KEFUGEES.  1G9 

If  tears  still  lay  wet  upon  this  woman's  checks,  and  her 
steps  faltered  as  she  threaded  her  way  through  the  miserable 
masses  lying  over  the  floor  of  the  depot,  it  was  but  natural. 
A  maniac's  most  fearful  dream  of  woe  could  scarcely  equal 
the  reality  of  misery  upon  which  her  eyes  rested. 

She  paused  at  a  group  of  women  in  tattered  garments,  in  atti- 
tudes of  the  most  abject  woe.  One,  middle-aged,  with  hair  pre- 
maturely white  and  scattered  in  wild  disorder  over  her  shoul- 
ders, sat  with  her  hands  locked  round  her  knees,  and  a  pipe  be- 
tween her  lips.  Her  eyes  were  red  and  swollen  with  weeping, 
and  Astrea  could  see  that  her  face  was  very  pale.  At  her  side 
lay  something  which  was  covered  over  by  an  old  homespun 
cotton  apron,  and  which  made  her  shudder  involuntarily. 

"You  have  come  at  last,"  said  the  woman  in  a  hard,  bitter 
tone  looking  up.     "I  thought  you'd  forgot  me." 

"  Xo,  I  never  forget  or  break  a  promise  if  it  is  in  my  power 
to  keep  it,"  Astrea  answered  very  gently.  "  I  have  made  and 
brouoht  this  for  Annie." 

She  held  up  the  shroud  she  had  but  lately  finished ;  then 
moving  round  upon  the  other  side  of  the  mother,  uncovered 
the  little  one  and  lifted  her  up.  She  did  not  shrink  now, 
though  her  hands  came  in  contact  with  the  icy  cold  form  of 
the  dead  child  in  removing  her.  The  divine  pity  was  too 
deeply  stirred  in  the  human  heart.  With  tender,  careful 
touch,  she  robed  the  small  figure,  brushed  the  silky,  tangled 
hair  from  the  baby  brow  and  composed  the  limbs  for  their 
last,  long  rest.  The  small,  rough  coffin  sat  there  ready  for  its 
occupant,  and  she  put  the  child  into  it,  thinking  all  the  while 
of  the  mother  who  sat  there  within  reach  of  her  hand,  her  heart 
filled  with  hard  and  bitter  murmurings  of  rebellious  grief. 

"Do  you  want  to  see  your  baby,  now?"  she  asked  softly, 
when  all  was  finished. 

"  Xo,  if  I  do,  I  shall  curse  the  God  who  made  us  an'  brought 
us  to  this  pass,"  she  answered  fiercely.  "  What  he  made  us 
for  is  more  than  I  can  tell.  Eich  folks  hates  us,  an'  grinds  us 
down  in  the  dirt  because  we  are  ignorant ;  an'  they  won't  let 


170  A   STORY   OF   THE   GREAT   REBELLIOX. 

US  be  anything  else  but  Ignorant !  Even  the  niggers  despises 
us  an'  taunts  us,  an'  flouts  at  us,  callin'  us  '  poor  white  trash ' 
an'  all  other  sorts  of  names  they  choose.  They  take  our  men 
away  from  us  an'  '  script '  them  in  the  rebel  army,  then  leaves 
us  without  anything  to  eat,  or  a  shelter  to  cover  us  from  the 
storms!  Who  could  help  hating  them;  an'  when  we  hate 
them,  can  we  help  saying  so?  Then  we  are  druv  out  of  the 
country,  an'  sent  to  wander  over  the  world  without  help  or 
pity.  The  federals  hates  us  because  our  folks  are  rebels,  an' 
so  we  are  houseless  an'  penniless  an'  starving  in  a  strange 
place ;  dying  by  dozens  for  very  want.  Much  sympathy  any- 
body has!  When  our  tears  falls  like  other  people's  tears, 
they  tell  us  that  It's  silly  to  grieve,  an'  we  ought  to  be  thank- 
ful that  God  has  taken  our  poor  children  away  fi'om  suffering. 
Oh,  put  any  of  them  In  our  places  an'  see  If  they'll  be  thank- 
ful! My  baby  Is  all  I  had  in  the  world,  an'  I've  seen  her 
starve  to  death  In  my  arms!  It  makes  me  hate  God  an'  man 
for  the  Injustice !  What  have  I  ever  done  that  I  should  have 
my  old  man  an'  my  son  shot  down,  like  dogs,  an'  my  only 
daughter  took  away  by  starvation.  An'  now,  here  I  am  all 
alone,  without  anything  in  this  wide  world  to  live  for.  I  wish 
I  was  dead." 

Her  head  fell  upon  her  knees,  and  she  sat  still  and  silent 
after  that.  Not  a  softened  tone  or  a  single  tear  denoted  a 
tenderer  feelino;  from  the  beo-innino;  to  the  end  of  the  bitter 
speech.  There  was  too  much  of  truth  in  what  she  said  for 
Astrea  to  refute  one  charge  she  had  made,  for  she  had  learned 
but  too  well,  the  combination  of  evils  that  made  this  class  of 
sufi'erers  by  far  the  most  pitiable — not  even  excepting  the  ne- 
groes. And  to  make  the  matter  still  worse,  any  attempts  to 
comfort  them,  were  looked  upon  In  the  light  of  willful  wrongs. 
They  said  it  was  so  easy  for  people  who  had  no  grief  to  say 
it  was  wise  an'  for  the  best  that  they  were  bereaved!  If 
they  had  ever  known  suffering  and  want  and  bereavement 
themselves,  they  would  not  mock  them  with  shallow  attempts 
like  these,  to  reconcile  them  to  a  hard  fate. 


AN   UNLOCKED    FOR   VISITOR.  171 

Notwithstanding  her  knowledge  of  this  prevailing  feeling, 
Astrea  now  sat  down  near  the  mother  and  spoke  gently,  kindly 
to  her,  from  the  depths  of  a  yearning  and  pitying  heart — 
talked  until  the  woman  spoke  up  sharply  and  asked  her  not 
'*to  bother  her  with  any  more  cant."  With  a  heavy  heart 
she  rose  and  turned  away,  only  pity  in  her  soul,  and  no  anger 
for  the  ingratitude  manifested  so  openly.  She  did  not  remem- 
ber the  hours  she  had  spent  in  wearisome  labor  for  this  woman's 
sake,  that  she  might  take  credit  to  herself  and  bring  a  charge 
against  her.  Recog-nizinff  the  true  state  of  affairs,  and  this 
event  as  a  natural  result  of  manifold  wrongs,  she  could  feel 
only  regret,  and  sympathy — could  only  breathe  a  silent  prayer 
to  One  who  alone  could  smooth  the  tangled  woof  of  perplex- 
ing fabrics,  and  go  sorrowfully  away. 

Back  through  the  depot,  leaving  the  sleeping,  moaning,  suf- 
ferino;  and  dead  behind  her,  and  again  out  into  the  night  and 
fresher  atmosphere.  Walking  on  slowly  toward  the  lights 
which  burned  dimly  within  her  windows,  she  lifted  her  face  to 
the  blue,  serene  heavens,  and  wondered  how  divine  eyes  could 
behold  such  woe  among  human  beings,  and  not  cover  the  face 
of  the  calm  expanse  with  the  blackness  of  His  wrath — how 
such  tender  love  could  exist,  and  yet  suifer  such  distress  among 
the  beings  He  created.  And  why,  with  all  that  the  eye  sees 
and  the  heart  feels,  are  His  purposes  so  deeply  shrouded  in 
mystery  ?  To  clear  questionings  or  clouded  wonderings,  there 
was  silence  only  in  answer.  No  response,  no  light,  and  she  was 
too  weak  to  strive  for  satisfaction.  Reaching  her  door,  she 
mechanically  placed  her  hand  upon  the  handle,  turned  it  and 
entered. 

Some  one  sat  in  her  chair  before  the  small  table,  holding  a 
volume  of  poems  which  she  sometimes  read  in  moments  when 
compelled  to  rest  from  physical  labor.  And  as  she  entered, 
he  rose,  took  a  step  forward  and  held  out  his  hand — a  hand 
that  grasped  and  held  hers  closely,  while  a  pair  of  glowing 
eyes  looked  down  into  her  own. 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

ESCAPING    FROM    PRISON. 

"You  come  as  one  from  the  grave,  Captain  Wilfer.  I  am 
Heartily  glad  to  welcome  you  back  again." 

"Thank  you.  I  am  glad  to  get  back.  Now  what  have 
you  to  tell  me  of  yourself?" 

"  Nothing  bright  or  pleasant.  I  am  like  a  straw  in  a  great 
murky  sea.  I  battle  vainly  with  the  loathsome  waters  for 
human  life  and  fail !     It  is  terrible !  " 

"  You  feel  your  own  lack  of  strength  too  much ;  it  causes  you 
to  underestimate  what  you  have.     How  you  have  changed  I" 

"  Scarcely  more  or  as  much  as  you.  I  do  not  see  Captain 
Wilfer  to-night  as  I  saw  him  months  ago,  but  his  shadow,  very 
indifferently  preserved.     Sit  down  and  tell  me  about  yourself." 

He  took  a  chair  in  front  of  her,  and  the  two  sat  face  to  face. 
It  was  true  that  she  did  not  understand  her  own  strength,  as 
he  had  asserted.  Her  manner  was  so  quiet,  her  tones  so  even 
and  unruffled  he  had  no  thought  of  how  her  heart  beat,  or 
what  strange  confusion  coursed  through  her  veins.  For 
worlds  she  would  not  have  suffered  him  to  see  how  deeply  his 
presence  moved  her. 

"  I  have  much  to  tell,  but  will  put  it  into  a  very  brief  space. 
You  have  probably  heard  that  I  was  captured  on  the  first  day 
of  battle.  On  the  second  day  we  were  hurried  away  on  foot 
to  Corinth,  and  from  here  sent  to  Selma,  Alabama.  What  of 
indignity,  privation  and  distress  we  suffered  there,  pass  my 
power  to  describe.     You  Avill  see  some  of  it  in  my  face,  if  you 


THE   MANNER   OF   ESCAPE.  173 

will  look — though  I  have  Improved  much  since  I  came  away. 
I  saw  my  comrades — brave,  good  fellows  whom  I  had  learned 
to  love  dearly  during  our  imprisonment,  sicken  and  die,  one 
by  one,  until  few  were  left.  Some  were  allowed  to  go  be- 
yond the  prescribed  limits  of  our  walking  ground,  and  were 
shot  down  like  dogs.  We  were  starved,  taunted,  and  even 
scourged,  if  abuse  became  too  galling  for  endurance,  and  pro- 
voked words  in  return  for  words.  Finding  that  I  should  soon 
be  unable  to  sustain  life  under  such  treatment,  and  that  the 
Government  was  too  tardy  in  sendmg  relief,  I  resolved  to  make 
my  escape  if  possible.  Exchange  seemed  far  oflf  and  uncer- 
tain ;  death  appeared  very  near. 

"So,  one  night  four  of  us  succeeded  in  getting  away,  aided 
by  an  old  negro,  who  was  generally  conceded  to  be  half-witted, 
and  to  whom  no  one  paid  any  especial  attention.  He  would 
sometimes  come  to  our  windows  and  peer  in  at  us,  chattering 
his  queer,  senseless  gibberish  until  we  were  constrained  to 
scold  and  chafe  at  the  annoyance.  When  this  had  continued 
until  we  thought  it  a  part  of  the  plan  of  the  rebels  to  make  us 
more  wretched  in  our  confinement,  we  discovered  that  he  was 
neither  a  fool  nor  an  imp,  but  a  true,  faithful  friend,  to  whom 
I  owe  my  liberty  to-night.     The  others — " 

Here  he  choked  and  could  not  proceed  for  a  full  minute. 
The  hand  which  he  put  up  before  his  eyes  to  shield  them  from 
her  compassionate  gaze,  trembled  violently.  Astrea  saw  that  it 
had  grown  thin,  and  was  covered  with  small  scars,  as  if  it  had 
been  torn  by  brambles  and  briers  in  a  desperate  flight  for  life. 

"  The  others  did  not  fare  so  well,"  he  went  on  more  calmly. 
"  I  alone  of  the  four,  escaped  with  life,  and  that  was  after  all 
seemed  utterly  hopeless. 

"I  said  that  I  owed  everything  to  that  old  negro,  and  I 
must  tell  you  in  what  way  he  served  us.  One  day  when  he 
had  almost  driven  us  wild  with  his  chatter,  I  flew  to  the  win- 
dow in  a  rage,  and  tried  to  dash  my  hands  through  the  bars 
to  get  at  his  black  face.  Usually  he  would  run  if  he  saw  us 
coming  toward  him,  but  on  that  day  he  remained  and  as  I 


174  A    STORY   OF   THE   GREAT  REBELLION. 

came  up  to  him,  thrust  a  small  roll  of  folded  paper  into  my 
hands,  saying  in  a  quick  undertone : 

" '  Read,  massa,  an'  don't  pay  no  'tention  to  ole  Pete's  foolery.' 

"  Then  he  burst  into  a  yell  of  seeming  delight,  ducked  his 
head  as  if  from  a  blow  and  ran  hurriedly  away. 

"I  comprehended  the  state  of  affairs  at  once,  and  waited  a 
few  moments  to  hurl  at  him  as  he  went,  a  storm  of  invectives 
which  set  the  sentinels  to  laughing  uproariously.  Having  ac- 
complished this,  I  took  the  paper  into  one  corner,  and  read  its 
contents.  It  was  the  brown  fly-leaf  of  a  book,  and  had  pen- 
ciled upon  it  in  delicate  lines,  a  few  simple  words — simple  in 
themselves,  but  all  important  to  us.  I  shall  never  forget  them, 
for  they  seemed  burned  instantly  upon  heart  and  brain,  filling 
me  with  new  life,  and  a  great  hope. 

"'You  are  suffering — dying.  I  am  your  friend,  and  it 
breaks  my  heart  to  see  men  who  have  fought  under  the  dear 
old  flag,  slowly  murdered  under  my  own  eyes.  My  power  to 
aid  is  small,  but  my  will  is  great.  Believe  this  and  trust  me. 
Uncle  Peter  is  my  sole  and  trustworthy  dependence,  and  to 
the  end  I  hope  to  accomplish,  I  have  caused  him  tfiiannoy  you 
so  unmercifully.  Watch  for  him  to-night,  and  if  he  gives 
you  a  key  through  the  windows,  take  it  and  let  yourselves  out. 
He  will  then  tell  you  to  follow  him,  and  if  you  can  succeed  in 
reaching  my  house,  I  have  such  changes  of  apparel  as  may  en- 
able you  the  better  to  make  your  escape  North.  Pray  God  to 
help  you  this  night.' 

"  It  has  been  said  that  woman  from  the  beginning,  has  been 
the  instrument  of  evil  to  man.  If  this  be  true,  I  am  sure  it 
is  more  than  balanced  by  the  good  she  does  him,  for  all  great 
good  seems  to  come  through  her  hands.  I  was  guilty  of  the 
meanness  of  sitting  down  and  pondering  a  long  time  distrust- 
fally  over  this  kind  note  before  I  resolved  to  submit  it  to  my 
companions.  Ten  of  us  were  confined  together,  and  six  out 
of  the  ten  were  unable  to  rise  from  their  straw  pallets.  It 
seemed  a  cruel  and  impossible  thing  to  leave  them  to  the  mercy 
of  those  fiends  in  human  shape — but  their  own  arguments  in 


THE   MANNEK   OF   ESCAPE.  175 

favor  of  the  effort  decided  us.  We  hoped  by  a  representation 
of  the  true  state  of  affairs  in  the  event  of  our  success,  to  be 
enabled  to  have  those  of  our  comrades  i-eleased  before  it  was 
too  late.  They  preferred  the  risk  to  remaining  there  in  end- 
less suspense  with  a  certainty  of  death  before  them ;  and  we 
had  all  thought  the  Government  had  no  knowledge  of  the 
manner  in  which  our  men  Avere  treated,  else  an  exchange  had 
been  made  long:  before.  You  know  that  the  imajjination  has 
full  play  in  such  situations,  and  we  thought  of  everything, 
reasonable  and  unreasonable,  then. 

"  Before  night,  after  much  consultation,  we  had  agreed  upon 
our  plan  of  action,  and  determined  to  make  an  attempt  to 
leave  rebeldom.  A  glorious  full  moon  rose,  lighting  up  the 
earth  with  the  brightness  of  day,  and  I  felt  some  uneasiness 
as  the  hours  waned  without  any  sign  of  the  coming  of  our  de- 
liverer. Standing  at  the  window,  I  watched  long  and  anx- 
iously, until  a  clock  in  the  distance  tolled  the  half  hour  past  ten. 

"Finally  down  the  dusty  road,  I  discovered  Peter  swag- 
gering along  toward  the  prison,  his  long-tailed  coat  almost 
reaching  Ve  ground,  and  something  like  a  jug  in  his  hand. 
He  was  shouting  snatches  of  Dixie  in  his  own  peculiar  style, 
and  laughing  at  intervals  in  seeming  great  glee.  As  he  neared 
the  sentinels  who  paced  at  the  front  and  rear  of  the  prison,  a 
sudden  change  came  over  him.  His  song  ceased,  and  he  grew 
exceedingly  anxious  to  conceal  his  burthen,  which  evident 
anxiety  at  once  attracted  the  attention  of  the  first  guard. 

"'Hallo,  Pete,  what  have  you  got  there?'  he  shouted  in- 
tercepting him.  Pete  shied  round  and  tried  to  get  away, 
muttering  confusedly, — 

" '  Only  'lasses,  massa.  Mistess  sent  me  to  fetch  some  'las- 
ses to  ole  Miss  Blake  who's  sick — berry  sick.  Massa  wouldn't 
keep  me  from  fetchin  'em.' 

"'Give  up  that  jug  to  me,  you  black  imp.  I'll  see  what 
kind  of  'lasses  your  mistress  keeps  at  her  house.  Give  it 
here  this  minute.' 

"  Seizing  it  from  his  hands,  he  drew  the  cork  and  lifted  it  to 


176  A   STORY   OF   THE   GEEAT  REBELLION. 

his  olfactory  organ  determinedly,  while  poor  Pete  made  a  great 
demonstration  of  distress.  The  man  uttered  a  rough  oath  and 
drank  deeply,  then  filled  a  flask  which  he  took  from  his  pocket, 
after  which  he  handed  the  jug  back  to  Peter. 

"'Carry  it  over  to  Tom,'  he  commanded,  pointing  to  his 
comrade  on  duty.  '  Quick  now,  and  no  foolin' !  Tell  him  I 
sent  it  with  my  compliments.' 

"Peter  ruefully  obeyed,  wiping  his  eyes  on  the  sleeve  of  his 
coat  as  he  went.  I  lost  sight  of  him  before  he  reached  Tom, 
but  could  hear  the  sound  of  their  voices  for  several  minutes. 
Then  Peter  went  away  quite  disconsolate,  and  for  half  an 
hour  everything  was  still  around  us. 

"  How  the  boy  managed  to  get  at  our  keeper  and  the  key  I 
never  knew.  But  it  is  quite  certain  that  he  did,  and  while  I 
stood  waiting  at  the  window,  he  thrust  it  through  the  grating. 

" '  Be  quick,  massa.  I'se  gwine  down  de  road.  You  come 
out  an'  foUer  me  to  de  cabin  whar  missis  is  ready  fur  ye,'  and 
without  further  directions  he  sauntered  off. 

"A  silent  grasp  of  each  hand  and  low,  fervent  sighs  of 
kindly  feeling  which  dared  not  come  out  in  words — then  we 
opened  the  door  and  walked  out  of  our  prison — passed  the 
drugged  sentinels  and  followed  Peter  who  swaggered  along 
for  a  short  distance,  finally  crossed  an  old  dilapidated  fence 
and  went  through  an  orchard  toward  a  small  house  surrounded 
by  a  little  corn-patch  and  tall  bean-poles.  All  this  helped  to 
screen  us,  and  we  reached  the  place  in  safety,  having  been  ob- 
served by  no  one.  A  young  girl  of  scarcely  sixteen,  and  very 
fair,  met  us  at  the  threshold,  pointed  to  an  inner  room,  and  bade 
us  so  and  chang-e  our  clothes  at  once.  This  done  she  filled  our 
pockets  with  dried  beef,  parched  corn  and  onions.  It  was  all 
she  had,  and  we  took  them  gratefully.  I  think  no  princess 
royal  ever  received  more  grateful  homage  than  we  paid  to  her 
after  she  had  given  us  directions  where  to  go,  and  how  to  find 
friends,  in  her  sweet,  clear,  eai'nest  way.  We  kissed  her  hands 
with  tears  of  gratitude,  while  she  lifted  her  sweet  face  upward, 
breathing  an  audible  prayer  for  our  protection.     Oh,  she  was 


A   SECOND   TIME   CArTURED,  177 

beautiftil  and  good,  and  to  my  dying  day  I  shall  never  forget 
licr — our  kind  stranger  friend,  who  would  not  even  tell  us  her 
name  that  Ave  might  remember  it  in  our  prayers ! 

"  We  left  her  then,  and  wandered  through  the  woods  and 
mountains  accordinfj  to  the  written  directions  she  had  given 
us,  until  we  came  to  an  old  house  where  we  found  rest,  food, 
shelter  and  a  fresh  supply  of  clothing.  From  thence  we  car- 
ried food  and  directions  to  another  place  of  refuge,  and  so  on 
for  a  week.  After  this,  the  line  was  broken  and  we  were 
thrown  upon  ourselves.  Notwithstanding  the  difficulties  that 
beset  us  now,  we  succeeded  very  well  until  the  last  stage  of 
our  journey.  From  that  class  of  the  poorer  whites,  whom  you 
know  as  refugees,  we  sometimes  obtained  food;  and  always, 
wherever  we  could  reach  a  negro  cabin  without  exposure,  we 
were  sure  to  find  kindness  and  assistance.  But  one  day,  just 
as  we  were  beginning  to  feel  greatly  elated  with  the  hope  of 
success,  a  body  of  cavalry  suddenly  dashed  down  upon  us 
where  we  had  lain  ourselves  for  a  brief  rest,  and  Ave  once 
more  found  ourselves  prisoners! 

"I  cannot  tell  you  anything  of  the  sensation  which  came 
OA'er  me  as  they  marched  us  off  to  the  Confederate  camp.  It 
Avas  an  entire  hopeless  heart-sickness,  such  as  may  be  felt  only 
once  in  a  life-time.  After  all  the  suffering,  privation  and  men- 
tal anguish  at  Selma, — then  the  flight  and  its  perils  through 
dreary  days  and  nights  of  wandering, — to  come  to  this  in  the 
end!  You  will  acknowledge  that  the  situation  was  a  trying 
one.  I  could  not  look  into  the  pale,  despairing  faces  of  my 
companions.  The  expressions  were  too  much  for  me,  and  I 
Avalked  on  with  my  eyes  drooping,  and  a  very  wicked  feeling 
in  my  heart,  knowing  that  I  could  rejoice  to  strike  the  death 
blow  of  each  and  every  one  of  our  ruffianly  captors. 

"  After  traveling  for  a  mile  or  tAvo,  we  came  to  their  camp — 
a  small  one,  for  the  body  Avhen  consolidated,  was  not  large, — 
situated  in  a  valley  lying  between  two  hills.  A\^hat  their  ob- 
ject Avas  in  coming  to  such  a  place,  I  cannot  imagine,  for  to 
my  mind  there  certainly  could  not  have  been  any  military  ad- 
12 


178  A    STORY    OF    THE    GREAT   REBELLION. 

vantage  possible  in  the  situation.  Probably  they  had  been 
out  on  a  raid,  or  proposed  making  one. 

"Our  appearance  was  much  against  us.  They  knew  at 
once  that  we  were  escaped  prisoners,  and  as  if  by  common 
consent,  not  one  of  us  would  give  a  satisfactory  answer  to 
their  questions.  On  reaching  the  camp  we  were  separated, 
and  subjected  to  a  private  examination.  I  was  placed  in  a 
little  log  cabin,  such  as  you  will  find  in  a  sugar  camp,  with  a 
few  boards  for  a  roof,  and  no  chimney.  I  did  not  see  where 
they  took  my  comrades,  but  I  knew  they  were  closely  guarded, 
by  the  care  which  they  bestowed  upon  my  ungrateful  self. 

"  Late  in  the  afternoon  three  men  came  to  my  quarters  and 
ordered  me  to  come  out.  I  obeyed,  and  was  marched  the  dis- 
tance of  a  hundred  yards  up  the  valley,  where  to  my  dismay  I 
discovered  a  rude  gallows  had  been  erected,  under  which  stood 
two  of  my  companions.  They  looked  determined  and  angry^ 
speaking  the  moment  I  came  up  in  defiance  of  the  rebels. 

"'Tell  them  nothing,  Wilfer,'  said  the  bravest  of  the  two,  in 
a  strong,  full  voice.  '  They  have  planned  to  murder  us  in  any 
event,  and  if  we  must  die,  we  will  die  in  silence,  for  they  shall 
learn  nothing  from  me.  I  have  heard  their  plans  without 
their  knowledge,  and  they  intend  to  murder  us  whether  we 
speak  or  not.     Let  no  false  hopes  tempt  you  to  open  your  lips.' 

"Almost  before  the  words  had  died  upon  the  air,  a  bullet 
sped  whizzing  through  the  brain  of  my  brave  comrade.  He 
fell  forward  without  one  groan  or  movement  at  my  feet.  The 
same  cowardly  assassin  again  lifted  his  revolver  and  shouted 
in  a  rage  to  another  who  stood  erect  and  glorious  now,  in  his 
just  indignation : 

" '  Speak,  and  say  you  will  answer  the  questions  put  to  you, 
or  the  gallows  will  be  cheated  of  another  victun  before  you 
have  time  to  call  on  God  for  mercy ! ' 

"'Fire,'  was  the  proud  response.  'I  am  ready  to  die,  and 
would  not  speak  to  save  myself  if  I  could  believe  you  would 
spare  me ! ' 

"I  saw  that  death,  instant  and  terrible  was  before  him,  and 


FIENDISH    AND    BRUTAL    MUllDEKS.  179 

in  mv  ao-ony  cried  out  to  him  not  to  be  rash.  It  was  not  my 
intention  to  yiekl  to  their  demands,  but  I  hoped  that  if  we  couUl 
o-ain  time,  there  might  arise  some  means  of  escape,  and  I  spoke 
from  the  impulse  of  that  hope.  Doubtless  that  appeal  saved 
my  own  life,  though  it  did  not  save  his.  The  rebel  officer 
lowered  his  revolver  and  gave  orders  to  hang  him,  and  he  was 
struncr  up  before  my  eyes  in  the  most  deliberately  fiendish  man- 
ner. They  paid  no  heed  to  my  entreaties  for  his  life,  and  when 
he  was  dead,  ordered  me  back  to  my  place  of  confinement  Avith 
the  Information  that  I  could  have  until  sunrise  of  the  follow- 
ino-  morning ;  if  by  that  time  I  had  not  made  up  my  mind  to 
tell  them  where  we  had  been  imprisoned,  how  or  by  whom 
liberated,  and  by  whom  befriended  since,  I  should  share  the 
same  fote,  and  be  hung  as  high  as  Haman. 

"  Oh !  what  a  storm  of  fury  raged  within  me  as  I  found  myself 
once  more  in  the  hut,  with  the  guard  stationed  outside  the  door," 

Here  Captain  Wilfer  rose  and  paced  the  floor  wnth  excite- 
ment ;  but  he  went  on  rapidly. 

*'  I  would  have  given  woi'lds  but  for  one  moment's  freedom 
that  I  might  wreak  vengeance  upon  the  man  who  had  heartlessly 
murdered  my  friends.  -,  If  ever  man  prayed  wickedly,  I  did  then, 
for  I  fell  upon  my  knees  and  implored  God  to  give  that  man 
into  my  hands  that  I  might  take  his  life.  You  shrink  and  look 
horrified,  but  you  do  not  know  how  you  would  feel,  placed  in 
such  a  position.  Even  you,  tender  and  merciful  and  womanly, 
I  believe,  could  not  have  borne  it  with  any  degree  of  calmness. 
And  what  if  I  should  tell  you  that  prayer  was  answered  I  If 
it  was  not,  mere  coincidences  are  passingly  strange ! 

"  Soon  after  night-fall,  a  fearful  thunder-storm  came  up,  and 
the  rain  poured  in  torrents.  I  had  observed  that  there  was  a 
stir  in  the  camp,  too,  which  could  scarcely  have  been  occasioned 
by  the  storm.  Men  passed  to  and  fro  talking  in  excited  under- 
tones, and  the  idea  occurred  to  me  that  they  had  received  ncArs 
of  the  presence  of  a  Federal  body  in  their  vicinity.  Carefully 
listening,  I  ascertained  this  to  be  true,  and  learned  also  that  they 
were  upon  the  hill,  north  of  the  camp.    I  then  resolved  to  make 


180       A  STORY  OF  THE  GREAT  REBELLION. 

my  escape  and  capture  the  whole  Confederate  band,  thus  ormg« 
ing  full  power  of  vengeance  within  my  own  hands. 

"  Feigning  weariness  I  lay  down  upon  the  ground  and  soon 
began  to  breathe  heavily;  and  the  guard  thought  me  asleep. 
He  was  now  inside  the  hut,  taking  shelter  from  the  rain,  and 
was  evidently  exceedingly  weary  himself.  The  light  was  very 
dim,  but  I  could  just  see  the  outline  of  his  figure  as  he  sat 
with  his  head  bent  upon  his  knees.  His  musket  lay  at  his 
side,  and  I  soon  knew  that  he  slept.  That  sleep  I  hoped  was 
sound,  for  the  fumes  of  whiskey  were  strong  from  his  breath, 
and  I  meant  to  make  it  sounder  for  awhile,  though  I  did  not 
intend  to  kill  him.  He  was  an  ignorant,  thoughtless  man,  his 
worst  fault  lying  in  the  fact  of  his  too  great  readiness  to  allow 
himself  to  be  made  the  tool  of  others.  He,  and  such  as  he, 
were  but  plastic  wax  in  the  hands  of  the  more  scheming  rebels : 
md  they  were  incapable  of  conceiving  any  very  wicked  plana 
against  life  or  liberty.  There  was  no  especial  wish  to  wreak 
vengeance  upon  him,  and  my  only  thought  was  to  get  rid  of 
"im  until  I  could  make  my  exit  from  the  place. 

"  Reaching  cautiously  for  his  musket,  I  succeeded  in  getting 
.-old  of  it  without  waking  him,  and  then  after  a  pause  in 
which  I  could  hear  the  loud  beatings  of  my  own  heart,  I  raised 
myself  and  prepared  for  the  last  desperate  effort  to  get  free. 
With  one  stroke  on  the  man's  head  with  the  heavy  end  of  the 
musket,  I  left  him  lying  senseless,  and  sped  out  into  the  rain 
and  darkness.  On  my  left  lay  the  confederate  men ;  on  the 
right  were  the  horses,  whose  restless  feet  favored  my  approach 
without  discovery.  I  slipped  into  their  midst,  unfastened  one 
and  mounted  him.  He  was  saddled  ready  for  use,  and  I  felt 
the  breath  of  Hberty  on  my  forehead  the  moment  I  had  as- 
sumed a  seat  on  his  back. 

"  The  direction  to  be  taken  was  a  matter  for  careful  consid- 
eration, and  I  was  for  a  moment  quite  bewildered ;  but  as  if 
fortune  had  determined  to  recompense  me  for  the  late  accumu- 
lation of  ills,  my  eyes  caught  the  gleam  of  a  rocket  sent  up  from 
a  neighboring  hill,  and  I  knew  that  there  I  should  find  my 


OXCE    MORE    AT    LIBERTY.  181 

r'riends.  Instantly  I  turned  the  animal's  head  in  that  direction, 
and  started,  not  rapidly  because  of  the  darkness,  but  still  with 
a  certain  degree  of  haste  which  only  desperation  could  give, 

"I  had  gone  safely  through  the  very  heart  of  the  camp  to 
the  outer  edge,  when  I  came  upon  a  mounted  guard  whom  I 
challenged  instantly  with  the  instinct  of  self-preservation 
stronjx  within  me : 

"'Who  goes  there?' 

" '  A  friend  I '  he  answered. 

" '  Halt  and  give  the  countersign.' 

"  He  rode  to  my  side,  whispered  the  word  and  I  answered : 

"'All  right,'  and  dashed  away.  In  a  moment  I  came  to 
the  outer  pickets  and  in  turn  received  a  challenge.  As  I  had 
the  countersign,  I  gave  it  boldly  and  w'as  allowed  to  pass. 
Then  I  gave  rein  to  the  animal  and  we  galloped  up  the  valley 
fiiriously  for  half  a  mile,  when  I  had  the  joy  to  discover  a 
faint  light  upon  the  hill  a  few  hundred  yards  above  me.  How 
to  reach  it  I  did  not  know,  but  I  made  the  effort,  and  dashed 
through  the  brush,  and  over  the  stones  at  random,  till  the 
undergrowth  became  too  dense  for  the  horse  to  penetrate,  and 
I  left  him  to  try  if  on  foot. 

"Finally  I  came  out  on  top  of  the  hill,  and  descried  the 
Federal  camp  where  our  men  were  resting  calmly,  unaware 
of  the  close  proximity  of  the  enemy.  The  pickets  arrested 
me  and  took  me  before  the  officer  in  command,  in  whom  I 
found  a  personal  friend,  well  known  to  me  years  ago.  That 
meeting  was  one  never  to  be  forgotten.  I  told  him  briefly 
what  had  happened  and  what  I  desired.  Immediately  the 
troops  were  roused,  and  placed  under  my  command,  the  colonel 
taking  for  the  time,  a  subordinate  position.  I  knew  the  force 
and  position  of  the  rebels,  and  we  dashed  dowm  upon  them 
with  perfect  confidence,  having  nearly  twice  their  number  of 
men.  The  resistance  was  determined,  but  they  could  not  hold 
out  long,  and  the  morning  sun  found  us  in  possession  of  the 
entire  body  of  the  enemy. 

"A  few  more  words  will  end  the  long  story.     My  other 


182  A   STORY   OF   THE    GREAT   REBELLIOX. 

comrade  had  been  as  brutally  murdered  as  those  of- whom  I 
have  spoken.  I  suppose  it  was  done  after  our  attack  was 
made,  and  they  found  they  could  not  hold  out  against  us.  The 
hope  I  had  cherished  of  liberating  him  was  thus  destroyed, 
adding  to  my  thirst  for  revenge." 

"And  did  you  take  it?"  asked  Astrea  as  he  paused,  look- 
ing steadfastly  in  his  face. 

"  I  have  not  taken  it  yet,"  he  answered  in  a  suppressed  voice. 
"  It  was  in  my  heart  to  hang  the  leader  there,  but  when  I  had 
him  in  my  power  and  could  have  done  it  without  one  oppos- 
ino;  word  from  a  man  in  the  command,  I  chose  to  wait.  We 
were  joined  the  day  following  by  a  portion  of  the  brigade 
Avhich  had  been  signaled  by  the  rocket  I  had  seen,  and  we 
took  up  our  line  of  march  for  Corinth.  He  is  now  confined 
in  a  house  below,  and  awaiting  his  trial,  which  he  shall  have 
fairly.  But  his  doom  is  sealed.  My  evidence  will  sentence 
him  to  death  inevitably,  and  he  knows  it.  I  said  I  had  not 
taken  my  revenge ;  I  am  taking  it  every  hour  of  his  life;" 

"What  is  his  rank?" 

"  A  colonel's.  He  commanded  two  regiments,  and  they  say 
that  they  were  foraging,  but  that  is  not  at  all  likely.  Doubt- 
less their  object  will  come  out  when  we  subject  them  to  ex- 
amination." 

"When  did  you  come  in?" 

"  To-night.  I  arrived,  weary  and  worn,  about  six  o'clock. 
Our  tents  are  pitched  in  the  lower  part  of  the  town,  our  prison- 
ers safe,  and  our  weary  men  at  rest.  It  happened  that  as  I  sat 
at  suj)per  I  heard  your  name  mentioned,  coupled  with  blessings 
and  words  of  high  respect.  I  found  out  where  you  dwelt  and 
came  to  see  you,  feeling  that  you  would  not  reftise  to  hear  what 
had  befallen  me  since  we  parted." 

"  You  have  suffered  much.  I  am  glad  to  welcome  you  back 
among  friends,  and  to  feel  that  you  have  done  nobly." 

She  held  out  her  hand  in  confirmation  of  her  words,  and  he 
took  it,  holding  it  lingeringly — longing  to  speak,  but  not  daring 
to  pass  the  limits  her  manner  prescribed. 


A  CONFLICT  OF  LOVE  AND  DUTY.         183 

"Come  to  see  me  to-morrow,"  she  added  almost  immedi- 
ately. "It  grows  late,  and  you  need  rest  as  well  as  myself. 
May  bright  and  peaceful  dreams  visit  your  sleep  this  night, 
such  as  you  have  not  known  for  weary  months.     Good-night." 

He  was  obliged  to  go,  and  took  his  leave  reluctantly.  But 
he  was  happier  for  that  interview.  Her  gentle  tones,  and 
earnest  expression  of  pleasure  in  his  safety,  sounded  pleasantly 
through  all  his  meditations.  He  would  have  been  happier  still, 
could  he  have  seen  her  after  she  found  herself  alone,  when  she 
had  fallen  upon  her  knees  in  thanksgiving  for  his  safety.  A 
Avearv  weijrht  seemed  to  have  been  rolled  from  heart  and  brain. 
As  she  stood  before  the  little  mirror,  to  unbind  the  long  hair, 
with  tears  still  wet  upon  the  lashes,  she  saw  that  her  eyes  were 
bright,  and  her  whole  face  radiant.  The  change  was  startling. 
"NYhy  should  she  feel  so  rejoiced  at  his  coming — so  glad  for 
that  above  all  else  ?  The  question  found  its  answer  in  her  own 
heart,  and  her  feelings  all  changed — cheeks  kindling,  and  eyes 
drooping  with  shame  and  anguish,  as  she  admitted  to  herself 
the  truth  which  she  had  never  before  acknowledged. 

"  God  pity  me.  I  do  love  him — fervently,  hopelessly ;  and 
worse  still,  he  loves  me  as  his  life.  Oh,  sun  of  joy  never  to 
slaiue  on  me,  even  while  the  light  streams  in  my  sight,  warm 
and  bright  and  bhssful.     God  pity  me!     God  pity  us  both!" 

The  candles  burned  dim,  flickered,  and  died  in  their  sockets ; 
still  she  sat  with  her  face  bowed  in  her  hands,  sleepless  and 
prayerful.  The  sounds  of  life  died  throughout  the  town,  and 
all  Corinth  slept,  save  where  a  few  men  paced  their  lonely  beats 
on  picket  duty.  But  she  this  night  thought  of  nothing  but 
herself  and  the  man  who  had  gone  out  from  her  presence,  yearn- 
ing for  words  she  did  not  dare  to  speak ;  dreamed  of  nothing 
bright  or  hopeful  in  the  future.  Dull  and  heavily  rolled  the 
current  of  her  life,  within  dark  and  dreary  bounds — no  fresh- 
ening breeze  upon  the  waters — no  tender  buds  or  blooms  upon 
its  banks.  She  saw  before  her  only  a  rugged,  uninviting  way — 
knew  that  she  must  tread  it,  and  strove  to  nerve  herself  for 
what  was  to  come. 


CHAPTER    XV. 
PLEADING    FOR    THE    LIFE    OF   A   REBEL    PRISONER 

A  FEW  days  after  Captain  Wilfer's  arrival,  while  talking 
with  General  Grant  at  his  head-quarters  just  out  of  town,  an 
orderly  came  and  informed  the  General  that  a  lady  was  very 
anxious  to  speak  with  him  privately.  He  bade  the  boy  show  her 
into  the  room,  but  the  latter  came  back  soon  and  said  she  would 
prefer  to  come  again  if  he  could  not  see  her  alone.  "Then 
show  her  into  my  private  office,  and  I  will  come  presently." 

The  boy  took  the  message,  and  she  followed  him  into  a 
small  room  which  no  one  entered  except  by  the  Commander's 
express  orders.  It  was  nearly  half  an  hour  before  he  closed 
his  interview  with  the  Captain  and  the  latter  took  his  leave. 

As  General  Grant  entered  the  room  where  his  visitor  sat, 
she  rose  and  threw  back  her  veil,  advancing  a  step  to  meet  him. 

"You  do  not  know  me,  I  presume,  General,  though  I  have 
been  here  almost  as  long  as  you  have." 

"No,  I  cannot  remember  to  have  seen  you  before." 

"Did  you  ever  hear  anything  of  a  Miss  Harmon?" 

"O,  yes.  Are  you  the  lady?  I  am  glad  to  see  you,  for  I 
can  take  this  opportunity  of  thanking  you  for  many  kindnesses 
to  the  soldiers.     Sit  down." 

She  resumed  her  seat,  and  he  took  one  near  her.  She  was 
looking  wistfully  into  his  face,  studying  him  with  an  intent- 
ness  he  could  not  understand. 

"  Do  you  really  feel  as  if  I  have  been  of  any  service  or  don^ 
any  good?" 


PLEADING  IN   VAIN.  18^ 

"I  do,  certainly.' 

"Enough  to  entitle  me  to  any  consideration,  any  favor, 
should  I  wish  to  ask  one?" 

''Perhaps  so.     What  do  you  want?" 

She  did  not  at  once  reply,  but  sat  playing  with  a  spray  of 
jasmine  plucked  from  a  vine  in  passing,  and  pulling  it  to 
pieces.  The  General  sat  very  patiently  waiting  her  answer 
and  watching  the  little  thin,  trembling  fingers. 

"  Captain  Wilfer  was  with  you  when  I  came,"  she  said  at 
length. 

"Yes." 

"I know  him,  and  did  not  wish  him  to  recognize  me.  On 
his  evidence  you  have  condemned  the  rebel  officer  whom  he 
brought  in  a  prisoner  a  short  time  since." 

"Yes." 

The  General's  brevity  was  worse  than  any  questions  or  im- 
patience could  have  been.  She  grew  more  and  more  restless 
and  wild  under  it,  dreading  to  go  on,  but  driven  to  it  by  his 
patient  expectancy.  Bursting  all  bounds  of  calm  control,  she 
spoke  with  rapid  desperation,  coming  at  once  to  the  object  of 
her  visit. 

"  General  Grant,  I  have  come  to  ask  that  man's  life  at  your 
hands.  He  does  not  deserve  it — I  know  this.  His  course 
has  been  more  than  cruel,  and  his  punishment  should  be  severe. 
But  I  implore  you  to  spai'e  his  life.  If  I  have  ever  done  any 
good  to  any  one,  accomplished  good  to  others  through  weari- 
ness and  pain,  for  the  sake  of  this,  grant  my  request.  If  I 
could  stay  away  and  remain  silent  while  his  sentence  was  be- 
ing executed  without  an  attempt  to  save  him,  I  should  always 
consider  myself  a  party  to  his  destruction,  and  never  again 
know  peace.  It  is  in  your  power  to  spare  him ;  punish  him 
by  imprisonment,  anything  else  but  death." 

She  had  risen  and  stood  before  him,  her  hands  wrung  to- 
gether in  an  agony  of  entreaty. 

"I  must  know  why  you  make  the  request,  and  on  what 
grounds  you  base  your  plea.     So  vile  a  wretch — so  wicked 


186  A   STORY   OF   THE   GREAT  EEBELUOX. 

and  deliberate  a  murderer  cannot  escape  from  the  hands  of 
justice  simply  because  a  woman  asks  his  life.  You  may  be 
entitled  by  your  actions  to  much  consideration  from  me,  but 
you  must  know  that  I  cannot  do  this  without  a  reason.  On 
what  grounds  do  you  base  your  request?" 

"  On  the  strength  alone  of  the  few  services  I  have  rendered. 
I  hope  that  my  care  has  saved  more  than  one  man  for  his 
country's  service,  and  until  now  I  Irave  asked  no  other  reward 
than  the  consciousness  of  duty  performed.  If  I  have  dared 
to  make  this  plea  with  hope,  it  is  because  the  matter  is  of  more 
importance  to  me  than  you  can  imagine." 

"  What  do  you  know  of  him  ?  and  what  right  have  you  to 
ask  the  release  of  such  a  villain?  You  acknowledge  him 
deserving  of  his  fate,  and  have  led  us  all  to  believe  you  a  very 
patriotic,  loyal  woman.  Is  there  no  inconsistency  in  your 
present  conduct  ?  " 

"I  may  seem  inconsistent  to  you,  for  you  cannot  know  the 
motives  which  prompt  me.  If  you  could,  you  would  never 
charge  me  with  any  unworthy  action." 

He  looked  at  her  thoughtfully,  then  rose  and  paced  the 
room  with  slow  steps,  his  hands  thrust  deeply  into  his  pockets. 

"It  is  true  I  know  nothing  of  your  private  motives,  and  it 
may  be  as  weU  to  keep  them  to  yourself,  for  I  tell  you  posi- 
tively that  whatever  he  may  be  to  you  I  cannot  modify  his 
sentence.  He  has  taken  life,  and  the  law  of  justice  requires 
that  his  life  shall  be  taken  in  return.  It  is  a  poor  equivalent 
for  such  blood  as  he  spilled  mercilessly ;  but  such  a  deed  shall 
not  go  unpimished  for  any  consideration.  If  he  is  anything 
to  you  I  am  sorry.  Sentence  has  been  passed,  however,  and 
to-morrow  he  must  die." 

"Can  nothing  move  you  to  alter  your  decision?" 

She  stood  up,  white  as  wax  before  him. 

"  Nothino-.  I  wish  your  errand  had  been  of  a  different  na- 
ture,  for  I  am  sorry  to  be  obliged  to  refuse  you.  How  did 
you  come — in  an  ambulance?     I  will  see  you  to  it." 

She  walked  out  mutely  by  his  side,  struck  dumb  with  over- 


ONE  MORE   EFFORT.  187 

whclmins:  emotions.  Could  she  leave  lilm  without  one  more 
appeal  for  mercy?  A  glance  at  his  cold  face  checked  the 
words  burnhig  on  her  lips,  and  she  suffered  hhn  to  place  her 
in  the  ambulance  in  silence.  Before  she  could  fully  realize 
that  he  had  positively  cut  her  off  from  all  hope,  he  had  touched 
his  hat  and  walked  away,  Avhile  the  driver  took  up  the  reins 
and  drove  back  to  Corinth. 

Captain  Wilfer  stood  on'the  porch  of  the  Tishomingo  Hotel 
as  she  passed,  and  seeing  her,  followed  the  veliicle  to  her 
dwelling.  Her  first  thought  was  to  escape  him,  but  a  second 
changed  the  impulse,  and  she  waited  him  at  the  gate  after 
sending  the  ambulance  away.  He  was  alarmed  the  moment 
his  eyes  rested  on  her  pallid  features. 

"  Something  dreadful  has  happened,"  he  exclaimed  anxious- 
ly.    "Can  I  do  anything  for  you?" 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know." 

She  clung  to  the  gate  for  support.  This  moment  was  worse 
than  all  that  had  gone  before.  He  took  her  hands  from  where 
they  had  fastened  themselves,  and  resolutely  put  his  arm  about 
her  form  to  keep  her  from  falling. 

"Come  into  the  house  and  try  to  calm  yourself.  Then,  if 
I  can  do  anything,  command  me." 

Her  streno;th  was  not  great  enough  to  contend  with  him 
now.  She  was  obliged  to  yield  and  suffer  herself  to  be  led 
like  a  child.  He  placed  her  upon  a  lounge,  got  a  glass  of 
water  and  stood  by  her,  anxiously  noting  every  expression  of 
her  agonized  face. 

"  Captain  Wilfer,  if  I  should  ask  a  great  favor  of  you,  do 
you  think  you  could  grant  it?" 

"I  would  try." 

A  long  silence. 

"  Do  you  think  If  you  were  to  make  the  attempt,  you  could 
alter  General  Grant's  decision  to  execute  the  rebel  officer 
whom  you  captured?" 

"I  would  not  like  to  attempt  It,"  he  answei'cd  in  great  sur- 
prise.    "Why  do  you  ask?" 


188  A   STORY   OF   THE    GREAT   REBELLION. 

*'I  want  you  to  try.  It  was  your  evidence  which  con- 
demned him,  and  you  may  succeed  where  I  have  failed.  I 
have  been  to  him.  You  were  there  when  I  went,  and  I 
avoided  you;  but  having  failed,  my  last  hope  lies  in  you. 
Desperation  has  driven  me  to  ask  your  help,  for  he  must  not 
die,  and  you  must  not  be  the  instrument  of  his  death." 

The  last  words  were  spoken  so  lowly  that  he  could  not 
catch  them.  After  waiting  for  her  to  continue,  and  seeing 
her  silent,  he  said  quietly: 

"You  fill  me  with  astonishment.  Why  did  you  not  men- 
tion this  when  I  told  you  of  his  capture  and  impending  trial, 
the  night  I  came?  It  is  true  that  he  has  not  been  tried,  for 
it  was  deemed  unnecessary.  I  gave  a  written  statement  to 
General  Grant,  and  he  has  acted  upon  it.  I  could  not  now 
alter  it,  for  my  honor  is  involved,  were  it  alone  at  stake.  You 
know  how  I  feel,  and  what  cause  I  have  for  the  feeling." 

"  Yes,  I  know  it  all.  Oh,  I  little  dreamed  of  whom  you 
were  speaking  then.  You  did  not  tell  me  his  name,  and  I 
have  not  known  it  until  to-day,  when  I  heard  the  soldiers  talk- 
ing about  his  approaching  execution." 

"Then  he  is  known  to  you?" 

"Yes.  Please  ask  me  no  more;  but  if  you  would  serve 
me  with  a  kindness  that  will  make  me  forever  grateful,  pro- 
cure his  release." 

"You  ask  too  much  of  me.     I  cannot  do  it." 

"You  are  bitter!  you  cannot  bear  to  have  your  revenge 
wrested  from  you !  Oh,  Captain  Wilfer,  I  thought  you  more 
generous.  It  were  nobler  to  spare  his  life,  and  leave  him 
time  to  repent  of  his  crimes." 

"Did  he  give  those  poor  men  time  for  repentance,  before 
he  hurled  them  into  eternity  without  mercy  or  the  shadow  of 
justice  ?  AYhat  is  he  to  you  that  you  can  find  it  in  your  heart 
to  ask  so  much  of  me?" 

'■'■  He  is  my  husband.''^ 

She  spoke  in  a  low,  heart-broken  tone,  and  he  recoiled  sud- 
denly as  if  from  a  sharp  blow. 


AN   UNPLEASANT   PREDICAMENT.  189 

"  That  man  your  husband,  and  you  ask  his  life  at  my  hands  ?" 

He  sat  down  ami  leaned  his  head  iigainst  the  window,  while 
a  o-roan  escajjed  his  lips,  so  deep  and  bitter  it  pierced  her  heart. 

"■If  it  is  ungenerous  in  me  to  ask  it,  forgive  mc,"  she  said 
brokenly.     "I  have  no  other  hope." 

He  did  not  anewer  and  her  heart  seemed  to  faint  within  her. 
Pride  gave  way  to  despair;  she  forgot  everything  but  the 
necessity  of  saving  her  husband's  life.  Had  another  been 
the  instrument  of  evil,  or  of  justice  to  him,  the  case  had  been 
less  terrible  and  easier  to  bear.  But  she  knew  that  this  man 
loved  her.  The  thought  seemed  to  freeze  her  blood  in  her 
veins.  Before  he  was  aware  of  her  intention,  she  had  knelt  at 
his  side  and  clasped  the  hand  nearest  her  passionately.  He  felt 
her  little  fingers  locked  closely  about  it,  her  brow  laid  against 
it  in  the  abandonment  of  her  agonized  entreaty.  But  the 
struggle  was  not  yet  over,  and  the  thrilling  sweetness  of  her 
touch  only  rendered  it  harder  to  gain  the  victory  over  his 
inore  selfish  desires  and  act  magnanimously.  His  love  grew 
mighty  within  him ;  the  temptation  waxed  strong.  Hope  and 
love  whispered  that  it  was  duty,  not  aflTection,  which  brought 
her  to  his  feet,  a  suppliant  for  the  life  of  a  bad,  cruel  man ; 
and  if  that  man  was  gone  forever  from  her  path,  he  might 
win  her.  Why  not  suflfer  justice  to  take  its  course,  and  abide 
the  result.  Was  he  responsible  if  the  man's  deeds  rendered 
him  worthy  of  punishment,  that  the  penalty  should  fall  on 
him?  If  he  escaped  the  law,  and  imposed  upon  his  captor 
this  sacrifice,  where  would  the  demands  of  justice  be  fulfilled  ? 

He  lifted  his  head  and  looked  down  upon  the  woman  by  his 
side.  That  one  glance  wrought  a  revolution  in  his  feelings. 
He  might  persist  in  his  course,  and  free  her,  but  in  doing  so, 
he  would  place  an  eternal  barrier  between  them — dig  a  gulf, 
over  which  he  would  never  dare  to  stretch  his  hands  and  ask 
her  to  come  to  him.  Something  in  the  pure,  sweet  face,  stained 
and  agonized  with  an  intolerable  woe,  called  up  the  better  feel- 
ings of  his  nature,  and  he  threw  aside  the  tempter  with  a  thrill 
of  shame  for  having  listened  to  its  allurements. 


190        A  Si  our  OF  THE  GREAT  EEBELLIOX. 

"  Eise,  Miss  Harmon  " — lie  could  not  call  her  by  any  other 
name,  even  now,  "  and  I  promise  you  to  do  all  in  my  power. 
How  much  you  have  asked,  you  know ;  but  I  will  not  refuse 
you,  though  I  may  not  be  able  to  accomplish  what  you  wish. 
If  I  succeed  you  will  grant  me  one  thing  in  return?' 

"  Oh,  do  not  impose  conditions  upon  me.  Captain  "Wilfer." 

"Do  I  then  still  fail  to  deserve  your  confidence?"  he  asked 
bitterly.  "  Is  it  so  fearful  a  thing  to  grant  me  the  privilege 
of  being  called  your  friend — to  be  allowed  to  serve  you  as 
your  friend  whenever  you  are  in  need?  I  understand  you 
now,  and  your  position  is  no  longer  a  mystery  to  me.  What 
is  due  to  you,  and  to  myself  as  an  honorable  man,  will  never 
be  forgotten." 

She  held  out  both  hands  frankly. 

"If  the  devoted  friendship  of  a  heart-broken  woman  can  be 
anything  to  you  in  compensation  for  this  great  service,  I  shall 
be  proud  of  the  honor  of  being  allowed  to  call  you  friend! 
My  gratitude  shall  be  boundless." 

He  bowed  over  those  hands,  drew  them  together  and  kissed 
them  reverently.  The  next  moment  he  was  gone — walking 
rapidly  away  towards  his  quarters. 

What  she  felt  or  thought  after  that,  she  could  not  have  told. 
Lying  with  her  face  in  the  pillows  of  the  lounge,  the  time 
sped  unheeded  until  night  closed  in.  She  was  conscious  of  a 
belief  that  Captain  Wilfer  would  save  the  man  she  had  called 
husband,  conscious  of  a  deep  and  fervent  gratitude  for  the 
nobility  of  his  conduct.  Murmured  prayers  were  constantly 
upon  her  lips — prayers  interrupted  by  wild  waves  of  thought 
and  remembrances  which  had  the  power  to  make  her  shrink, 
and  cry  out  in  irrepressible  moans.  But  nothing  clear  Avas 
evolved  from  the  seething  chaos  of  her  brain.  She  did  not 
strive  for  one  distinct  idea,  suffering  confusion  to  reign  until 
exhausted  nature  could  bear  no  more,  and  she  sank  into  pro- 
found slumber. 

Her  landlady,  Mrs.  Merton,  came  several  times  to  the  door 
to  see  if  she  had  wakened,  that  she  might  serve  tea;   but 


AN    UNEXPECTED   MEETING.  191 

would  not  disturb  her,  knowing  her  need  of  rest.  So  slic 
slept  on  for  several  hours,  until  Captain  Wilfer  came  and  in- 
sisted upon  rousing  her. 

"I  have  something  to  tell  you,"  he  said  as  soon  as  she  was 
able  to  comprehend  him.  "After  you  have  taken  some  re- 
freshment. I  am  going  to  beg  you  to  take  a  walk  Avith  me 
for  a  short  time." 

"You  have  succeeded?"  she  asked  with  a  gasp,  turning 
white  and  faint  with  excess  of  feeling. 

"  Xever  mind  whether  I  have  or  not.  Here,  Mrs.  Merton 
has  brought  your  tea,  and  you  must  drink  it.  Do  you  re- 
member bringing  me  my  tea  after  that  accident  on  the  Missis- 
sippi? Now  I  want  to  return  the  compliment,  and  hold  the 
tray  at  your  side  while  you  drink  this,"  handing  her  the  cup 
as  he  spoke.  "  And  now  what  if  I  should  tell  you  that  I  have 
a  great  treat  in  store  for  you  as  soon  as  you  have  finished?" 
"I  should  say  that  it  is  like  you  to  be  kind  and  generous  in 
striving  to  give  me  pleasure." 

She  could  scarcely  repress  the  tears  which  rose  to  her  eyes 
as  she  spoke. 

"  You  give  me  credit  for  more  generosity  than  I  am  entitled 
to,"  he  answered  carelessly.  "I  have  just  met  Major  Noble, 
who  informed  me  that  he  and  his  wife  arrived  here  to-night, 
and  she  is  anxious  to  see  you.  The  pleasure  of  the  surprise 
was  so  great,  I  could  not  resist  the  desire  to  come  and  tell  you, 
that  you  might  share  it.  A  man  who  can  come  back  to  ser- 
vice in  his  condition,  is  deserving  of  the  highest  honor.  He 
looks  like  a  ghost  still,  but  he  is  as  cheerful  as  a  sunbeam." 
Astrea's  face  lighted  and  glowed  with  radiance. 
"God  bless  him,  and  all  like  him  who  are  brave  and  true! 
I  will  go  to  my  little  friend  at  once." 

But  when  they  had  passed  beyond  the  gate,  he  drew  her 
hand  within  his  arm  and  said  with  an  effort :    ' 

"  You  can  see  your  friend  some  other  time.  I  spoke  of  that 
for  the  benefit  of  Mrs.  Merton,  from  whom  I  supposed  yoy 
would  prefer  to  keep  your  private  aflfliirs." 


192  A   STOEY   OF   THE   GREAT   REBELLION. 

*'  You  are  right ;  I  have  told  her  nothing,  and  do  not  wish 
any  one  to  know  what  I  have  been  obliged  to  tell  you." 

"  I  thought  as  much.  And  now,  what  I  have  to  sav  is,  that 
I  have  seen  General  Grant,  and  that  he  refuses  to  make  any 
chancre  in  his  decision." 

She  stopped  suddenly,  recoiling  as  if  about  to  fall. 

"Nay!  listen  to  me  a  moment.  I  say  he  refuses,  but  I 
think  I  can  contrive  his  escape,  which  will  straighten  a  very 
tangled  web.  I  came  to-night  to  take  you  to  the  prison,  if 
you  wish  to  go — if  you  have  any  desire  to  see  him.  The  per- 
mit comes  from  General  Grant  himself." 

"  It  is  what  I  would  have  asked  of  you  as  a  last  favor." 

"Are  you  strong  enough  to  bear  it?" 

"  I  do  not  know ;  but  I  must  see  him." 

"  Then  you  must  go  to-night ;  to-morrow  it  will  be  too  late." 

They  walked  on  slowly,  for  she  faltered  at  every  step,  pass- 
ino-  through  the  centre  of  the  town,  and  on  to  a  large  building 
called  the  "  Stockade,"  where  a  large  number  of  rebel  prisoners 
were  confined. 

Captain  Wilfer  stepped  to  the  guard  and  said  something  to 
him  in  a  low  voice,  then  as  he  drew  back  and  touched  his  cap, 
the  young  man  half-supporting  his  trembling  companion, 
crossed  the  threshold  and  paused  before  a  small  door  on  the 
jight.  To  the  sentinel  who  was  stationed  in  the  hall,  he  pre- 
sented a  slip  of  paper,  and  another  man  was  called  to  open  the 
door.  Astrea  pressed  her  hands  hard  over  her  bosom  as  the 
key  rattled  in  the  lock,  then  by  a  strong  effort,  recovered  her- 
self and  went  in.  Captain  Wilfer  withdrew  and  waited  on 
ihe  outside,  leaving  her  alone  with  the  prisoner. 

A  small  lamp  burned  upon  the  table  in  one  comer,  and  by 
its  light  the  prisoner  sat  looking  at  something  which  he  held 
in  his  hand,  as  she  entered.  His  back  was  toward  the  door, 
and  he  did  not  deign  to  look  around  when  he  heard  it  opened, 
supposing  that  it  was  some  officer  who  came  to  question  him. 
She  advanced  and  looked  over  his  shoulder,  drawn  by  the 
Irrepressible  desire  of  a  sudden  thought.     Her  quick  eye  had 


AX   UNEXrECTED   MEETING.  193 

caiu'-ht  the  gleam  of  a  golden  case,  and  the  possibility  of  its 
beln<^  a  miniature,  made  her  act  from  a  sudden  Impulse.  It 
was  a  miniature  but  tiie  features  were  strange,  pretty  and  in- 
significant. With  a  quick,  imperious  step  she  passed  around 
and  stood  before  him,  throwing  off  her  hat  that  her  face 
might  not  be  concealed  from  his  view.  Had  an  apparition 
appeared  to  him  he  could  not  have  turned  more  pallid  as  he 
started  up,  grasping  Involuntarily  at  the  back  of  his  chair  for 
support. 

"You,  Eugenia?     My  God,  how  came  you  here?" 

She  smiled,  a  cold,  scornful  smile. 

*'  I  might  return  the  compliment  and  ask  how  you  happened 
to  be  here,  Mr.  Passiver?" 

A  fearful  oath  escaped  his  lips. 

"Xot  of  my  own  free  will,  you  may  be  sure.  I  have  had 
the  bad  luck  to  get  captured,  and  suppose  I've  got  to  die. 
What  hand  have  you  had  in  the  matter?" 

"  You  suspect  me  of  having  something  to  do  with  your  sen- 
tence?" 

"Why  not?  You  are  here,  and  I  am  to  be  hung  or  shot 
to-morrow.  You  would  be  glad  to  know  me  out  of  your  way, 
no  doubt." 

"  If  I  could  be  so  wicked  as  to  desire  your  death,  I  would 
not  stain  my  hands  with  your  blood  even  to  meet  the  ends  of 
justice.     By  what  right  do  you  so  falsely  judge  me?" 

"  Oh,  I  did  not  know  but  your  high  notions  of  honor  and 
patriotism  woidd  lead  you  Into  making  a  great  sacrifice  In  the 
eyes  of  the  world,  while  at  the  same  time  you  might  rid  your- 
self of  an  Incumbrance.  Perhaps  you  might  find  a  husband 
more  suited  to  your  taste." 

He  laughed  coarsely,  in  closing  the  insulting  speech. 

"Still  cruel,"  she  said  bitterly;  "and  this  Is  to  be  my  only 
reward  for  all  that  I  have  done  for  you.  God  grant  that  I  may 
not  be  tempted  to  regret  that  I  have  humbled  myself  to  plead 
for  your  life." 

"You  plead  for  my  life!"  and  he  laughed  derisively.  "I 
13 


194  A   STOKY   OF   THE   GEEAT   REBELLION. 

may  believe  it  when  I  find  myself  an  himdred  miles  south  of 
the  Federal  lines." 

"  Were  I  to  cause  you  to  be  liberated,  could  you  find  it  in 
your  heart  to  be  merciful  to  me  in  return?" 

"What  would  you  have?" 

"My  child.  You  have  robbed  me  of  the  brightest  years 
of  my  life ;  crushed  me  to  the  dust  in  woe  and  humiliation ; 
heaped  upon  me  abuses  that  you  would  not  have  heaped  upon 
a  dog ;  driven  me  from  my  home  under  curses  and  hatred ; 
sunk  me  from  wealth  to  poverty  and  toil  for  my  daily  bread ; 
subjected  me  to  suspicion,  misconstruction,  insult!  All  these 
I  can  forgive  and  make  no  complaint,  if  you  will  make  amends 
for  the  crowning  evil  done  to  me,  and  give  me  back  my  child. 
You  never  cared  for  her ;  you  tore  her  from  me  only  that  you 
might  make  my  misery  complete.  Give  her  back  to  my  love 
and  care,  and  I  will  forgive  all — will  ask  no  more." 

"  You  are  magnanimous !  What  a  monster  you  make  me 
by  your  generous  array  of  charges.  Really,  I  would  like  to 
make  some  return,  but  fear  I  must  decline  to  meet  such  a  de- 
mand. My  daughter  must  be  reared  by  persons  more  fitted 
for  the  responsibility  than  yourself.  Considering  my  own 
mother  to  be  the  best  guardian  of  her  innocent  years,  I  have 
placed  her  m  her  charge,  and  trust  that  she  may  grow  up  a 
better  woman  than  my  headstrong  wife,  if  I  may  condescend 
without  a  breach  of  honor,  to  call  her  by  that  name." 

The  spirit  of  the  woman  was  outraged.  All  weakness  had 
floAvn  now,  and  she  stood  erect  and  grand  in  her  wounded 
pride — her  just  anger.  The  dark  eyes  smouldered  with  con- 
suming passion,  and  her  pale  cheeks  became  crimson. 

"  Frederic  Passiver,  are  you  mad  ?  Do  you  know  what  you 
are  doing  in  your  wanton  cruelty?  In  mercy  to  yourself, 
listen  to  me,  and  heed  well  what  I  say.  I  have  been  gener- 
ous, forbearing  with  you  always,  but  I  am  no  more  than  hu- 
man, and  there  is  a  limit  to  endurance.  You  have  wrecked 
my  life,  and  now  stand  between  me  and  every  hope  of  happi- 
ness in  the  future.     Yet  when  I  heard  that  it  was  you  who 


AN    UNEXPECTED   MEETING.  195 

hail  been  captured  and  sentenced  to  death  for  a  brutal  and 
inluunan  action,  I  went  to  General  Grant  to  plead  that  your 
sentence  might  be  altered,  your  unworthy  life  spared.  With 
him  I  failed,  but  I  did  not  yield,  and  I  have  the  promise  from 
another,  that  you  may  be  liberated.  It  is  in  my  power  to  step 
outside  that  door  and  say  '  Let  justice  take  her  course,'  and  the 
sentence  will  be  executed  at  the  rising  of  to-morrow's  sun.  I 
speak  no  idle  words,  and  I  implore  you  not  to  drive  me  to  the 
commission  of  a  deed  that  would  destroy  you,  and  make  me 
loathe  myself." 

"Are  you  telling  the  truth,  Eugenia?" 

"  When  did  I  ever  tell  you  a  falsehood  ?  Oh  man !  so  false 
yourself  you  can  believe  in  no  one — put  faith  in  the  integrity 
of  none  I  Even  the  remembrance  of  adherence  to  principle 
and  truth  under  tortures  as  vile  and  unholy  as  the  tortures  of 
the  Inquisition,  have  not  the  power  to  make  him  spare  me  now 
from  the  insult  of  his  incredulity.  Frederic  Passiver,  I  warn 
you  to  beware !  " 

And  he  did  quail  as  he  looked  into  her  resolute,  passionate 
face.  She  had  reached  the  crisis  of  an  unutterable  woe,  and 
his  fate  rested  in  her  hands.  One  word  of  light  and  mocking 
import,  such  as  rose  to  his  lips  from  habit,  and  he  knew  by 
her  look  that  she  would  mutely  walk  from  his  presence,  and 
leave  him  to  his  doom.  The  love  of  life  was  strong;  his  hate 
and  passion  were  deep  and  bitter;  he  panted  for  freedom  and 
revenjje.  To  gain  his  wishes  he  changed  his  manner  and 
grew  humble. 

"Eugenia,  I  have  tried  you  too  hardly  and  regret  it  sin- 
cerely. If  you  can  accomplish  what  you  claim  to  be  ^ble  to, 
I  will  grant  your  request,  and  send  your  child  to  you  through 
the  lines.  At  any  fixed  time,  giving  me  sufficient  time  to  go 
for  her,  your  messenger  may  meet  mine,  who  will  come  with 
a  flag  of  truce,  and  dehver  her  to  him,  on  recei\ang  proof  that 
he  has  your  authority  for  her  custody." 

"You  will  swear  to  this  agreement?" 

"If  you  require  me  to  do  so." 


196  A   STORY   OF   THE   GREAT   REBELLION. 

"I  do  require  it.     Hold  up  your  hand." 

He  held  it  up,  and  she  repeated  in  low,  concentrated  tones 
an  oath  which  thrilled  him  with  awe,  by  its  intense  solemnity : 

"I,  Frederic  Passiver,  do  solemnly  swear  before  God,  as  I 
hope  for  his  mercy  in  the  day  of  judgment,  to  fulfill  the  agree- 
ment made  this  night  to  my  wife,  Astrea  Eugenia  Passiver. 
and  in  consideration  for  the  liberty  she  gives  me  by  her  influ- 
ence, return  to  her  custody  and  care,  the  infant  child,  whom 
I  took  from  her  in  parting.  If  I  fail  to  fulfill  this  oath  to  the 
letter,  may  His  wrath  overtake  me,  cutting  me  off"  from  life 
without  a  moment's  warning,  and  consigning  me  to  punish- 
ment forever  and  forever  after  death." 

He  repeated  it  after  her,  hesitating  often,  and  reluctant  to 
proceed.  But  her  eyes  chained  him,  and  he  was  forced  to  go 
on  to  the  end.  Great  drops  stood  out  on  his  brow,  and  the 
moment  he  had  finished  he  sank  to  his  chair  with  an  oath. 

"I  hope  you  are  satisfied,  madam.  And  now,  if  you  have 
no  further  arrangements  to  make,  be  brief,  and  I  wiU  excuse 
you  from  wasting  upon  me  any  more  of  your  valuable  time." 

"The  Federalists  occupy  luka  now.  Send  the  child  there 
with  a  flag  of  truce,  and  I  will  myself  be  with  the  man  to  re- 
ceive her.  I  give  you  two  weeks — ample  time  for  all  you  may 
wish  to  do ;  and  if  you  fail,  the  consequences  of  your  oath  be 
upon  your  own  head.     I  am  not  responsible." 

She  went  out  quickly,  without  looking  back.  Captain  WU- 
fer  met  her  at  the  door,  and  sUently  drew  her  hand  witliin  his 
arm,  leading  her  away  without  question  or  comment. 

And  while  he  walked  restlessly  beneath  the  stars  that  night, 
striving  to  still,  by  the  force  of  a  strong  man's  reason,  the 
clamor  of  feelings  which  kindled  the  blood  in  his  veins  to  in- 
tense fever,  she  was  lying  prostrate  upon  the  floor  of  her  cham- 
ber, shut  out  from  all  sympathy  and  consolation,  thinking  of 
her  bhghted  life — the  years  that  had  teemed  with  misery — the 
present,  so  dark  and  hopeless — into  all  of  which  mingled  doubts 
and  conjectures  that  were  in  themselves  tormenting.  Whose 
niniature  was  it  that  she  had  seen  in  his  hand?     Some  one 


► 


OLD   MEMORIES   REVIVED.  197 

whom  he  loved,  doubtless,  had  given  him  the  semblance  of  her- 
self. A  less  worthy  woman  had  won  from  him  what  she  had 
never  been  able  to  gam,  and  she  would  not  have  been  mortal, 
had  the  thought  given  rise  to  no  bitter  feeling.  Would  he 
keep  his  oath  ?  He  had  broken  promises  almost  as  solemn,  and 
she  did  not  know  if  he  considered  an  oath  made  to  her  more 
binding.  In  her  doubt  she  had  been  led  to  make  it  as  strong 
as  possible,  dictating  the  most  solemnly  binding  pledge  her 
imagination  could  invent.  She  found  it  in  her  heart  now  to 
pray  that  he  might  be  made  to  keep  it — that  he  might  become 
a  w^iser  and  a  better  man. 

Oh,  woman,  out  of  the  depths  of  such  misery,  to  remember 
with  humble  and  fervent  prayer  one  w^ho  had  only  spoken  to 
wound,  who  had  acted  to  crush!  If  there  be  no  heroism  in 
deeds  Hke  this — no  grandeur  in  the  strength  which  Hfts  her 
above  self  in  such  an  hour  of  trial — then  are  heroism  and 
grandeur  but  names  only,  idle  and  meaningless. 


CHAPTEE  XYL 

REFUGEES    AND    THEIR    PITIFUL    CONDITION— DISAP- 
POINTMENT   AND    FAITHLESSNESS. 

There  was  great  excitement  throughout  the  town,  when  It 
was  known  that  the  prisoner  who  was  under  sentence  of  death, 
had  made  his  escape.  He  was  traced  to  the  picket  lines  which 
he  had  passed  about  twelve  o'clock,  giving  the  countersign; 
but  there  all  trace  was  lost,  though  a  company  of  cavalry- 
was  sent  in  pursuit.  Efforts  were  made  to  discover  who  had 
contrived  to  release  him,  for  no  one  thought  that  he  could  have 
made  his  escape  without  very  efficient  aid ;  but  nothing  of  a 
con\"incing  nature  was  educed  from  the  few  facts  learned,  and 
very  soon  the  excitement  died  out.  If  General  Grant  sus- 
pected Wilfer  of  complicity  in  the  matter,  he  found  no  evi^ 
dence  to  confirm  his  suspicions,  and  did  not  press  the  search 
further  than  his  duty  required.  Other  excitements  soon  swepi 
this  away,  and  Corinth  sank  once  more  into  its  usual  daily 
routine  of  succeeding  events. 

In  the  days  that  followed,  Astrea  had  one  great  consolation 
in  the  presence  of  her  friend.  Major  Noble  was  appointed  to 
a  post  of  duty  which  required  little  exertion,  and  his  wife 
entered  with  heart  and  soul  into  all  the  plans  to  be  arranged 
for  the  comfort  and  assistance  of  the  refugees,  who  were  con- 
veyed through  the  lines  every  day  in  appalling  numbers.  The 
facilities  for  sending  them  north  were  meagre,  and  the  progress 
slow.  Every  spot  that  could  afford  them  shelter,  was  crowded, 
and  disease  was  sweeping  them  away  at  a  fearful  rate — brougnt 


••WHITE  TRASH."  199 

on  by  exposure  and  want.  The  ladles  were  untiring  in  their 
eftbrts  to  give  relief,  bringing  every  possible  means  of  aid  to 
hear  upon  their  dreadful  condition,  while  the  officers  laughed 
at  them  and  called  them  enthusiasts  for  their  pains. 

"  They  are  a  filthy,  ungrateful  set,"  declared  one  young  man 
with  a  shrug  of  the  shoulders  and  an  expression  of  intense 
diso-ust.  "By  the  time  you  know  as  much  of  them  as  I  do, 
you  will  be  willing  enough  to  leave  them  to  their  fate." 

"And  pray,  Avhy  do  you  say  this?  What  do  you  know 
more  than  Miss  Harmon,  who  has  toiled  for  them  for  weeks?" 
asked  jNIrs.  Noble,  while  Astrea  smiled  at  his  assumption  of 
superior  knowledge. 

"  I  happen  to  know  much  more  than  I  care  to  know,"  he 
said  readily,  "  having  been  sent  in  charge  of  a  hundred  to  Illi- 
nois, where  it  was  proposed  to  settle  them  wherever  we  could 
find  a  place.  Such  things  as  soap,  water,  combs  and  brushes, 
they  hold  in  high  disdain ;  and  they  have  no  more  energy 
than  so  many  pigs.  I  was  thoroughly  sick  of  them  before  I 
o-ot  through,  I  assure  you.  Think  of  their  using  the  money 
distributed  among  them  to  buy  food,  for  a  lot  of  brassy  trinkets 
and  gaudy  finery! — that  too,  when  they  did  not  know  where 
to  find  a  roof  to  shelter  them,  or  a  pound  of  provisions  to 
keep  them  from  starvation." 

"  But  if  these  things  were  so  scarce  as  not  to  be  found,  of 
what  use  could  the  money  be?"  asked  Mrs.  Noble  teazingly. 
"  As  well  spend  it  for  finery  as  anything  else." 

"You  don't  mean  that,  I  know.  If  they  couldn't  keep  it, 
why  not  buy  clothing  that  would  have  been  of  some  use,  and 
decent  in  appearance?  Preserve  me  from  the  refugees  for- 
ever— those  poor  people  of  the  south  whom  the  darkies  call 
*  white  trash.'     I  have  had  my  share  of  trouble  with  them." 

"'Inasmuch  as  ye  do  it  unto  the  least  of  these,  ye  have 
done  it  unto  me,' "  quoted  Astrea  gravely,  remembering  that 
bitter  defence  in  the  depot  where  she  saw  the  vision  of  a 
woman  sitting  over  her  dead  child.  "  Major  Thornton  may 
declare  his  disgust,  and  bewail  the  thriftlessness  and  ingrati- 


200  A   STORY   OF   THE    GREAT  REBELLION 

tude  of  this  miserable  class ;  but  I  cannot  think  that  he  would 
refuse  this  aid  to  any  one  who  might  come  to  him  in  extremity. 
His  lips  do  his  heart  injustice." 

"Miss  Harmon's  good  opinion  is  deserving  of  appreciation, 
and  Major  Thornton  thanks  her  sincerely.  He  feels,  however, 
that  he  would  be  taking  credit  for  charity  to  himself  which 
he  does  not  deserve,  were  he  to  allow  her  to  suppose  that  he 
would  ever  take  one  step  further  to  serve  them." 

They  were  sitting  in  Mrs.  Noble's  room  at  the  Tishomingo 
one  morning,  when  this  conversation  took  place,  while  Astrea 
was  looking  over  some  drawings  in  colored  crayon  with  Gen- 
eral McPherson. 

"  How  do  you  feel  about  them.  General  ?  Are  they  not  to 
be  pitied  rather  than  despised?" 

"I  think  so,  truly.  They  are  not  responsible  for  the  igno- 
rance which  renders  them  odious  to  the  more  intelligent  classes 
of  society,  for  the  circumstances  of  their  lot  debar  them  from 
all  opportunities  of  improvement.  They  are  born  in  poverty, 
and  the  distinction  of  position  is  so  great  between  them  and 
the  wealthier  classes,  there  is  not  one  link  to  bind  them  to- 
gether with  the  first  degree  of  sympathy.  The  institution  of 
slavery  has  cut  them  off  from  all  lucrative  employment ;  ten- 
ants on  large  plantations,  they  have  only  an  indifferent  shelter, 
and  sufficient  food  from  day  to  day  to  keep  them  from  want. 
They  are  unable  to  emigrate — incapable  of  supporting  their 
own  schools,  and  debarred  from  the  privileges  of  sending  their 
children  to  those  places  where  the  rich  men's  families  are  edu- 
cated. By  what  means  can  they  rise  above  the  miserable 
condition  to  which  they  are  born?  Ambition,  if  it  rises,  is 
strangled  at  its  birth,  and  they  must  plod  on  in  the  same  aim- 
less way,  year  after  year,  without  any  visible  sign  of  change. 
This  war  has  wrought  a  revolution,  and  will  not  only  benefit 
the  black  by  emancipation,  but  the  poor  white  people  also  by 
forcing  them  into  different  paths.  I  sometimes  think  that  it 
was  needed,  and  is  but  the  course  of  a  wise  Providence  to  lift 
a  portion  of  his  people  from  worse  than  bondage." 


A  PITIFUL   SIGHT.  201 

"  But  they  are  all  being  killed  off — the  men  at  least — while 
the  women  and  children  are  dying  by  hundreds." 

"Such  as  may  be  left  will  be  benefited  by  the  change. 
The  men  and  women  may  not,  indeed,  be  greatly  changed  by 
it,  but  their  children  will  come  in  contact  with  a  different  class 
of  minds,  and  become  industrious  and  ambitious.  You  may 
not  have  noticed  it  Major  Thornton,  but  I  can  already  see  in 
the  result  good  to  them  as  a  people.  I  could  point  out  In- 
stances here  in  this  place,  that  would  force  you  to  the  ac- 
knowledgment that  I  am  right.  And  I  think  it  our  duty  to 
excuse  their  faults — make  every  possible  allowance  for  their 
shortcomings,  and  do  them  all  the  good  we  can." 

"Then  follow  out  your  ideas,  and  be  as  jihilanthropical  as 
you  like.  I  am  not  a  philanthropist,  and  I  beg  to  be  excused 
from  having  anything  to  do  with  them.  There  is  the  whistle 
of  the  southern  train.  You  will  now  have  an  immediate 
opportunity  to  display  some  of  your  generosity." 

General  McPherson  rose  and  excused  himself.  He  was 
superintendent  of  the  military  railroads  at  that  time,  and  it 
was  necessary  for  him  to  be  present  at  the  arrival  and  depart- 
ure of  every  train. 

Standing  at  the  front  windows,  our  party  watched  the  train 
as  it  came  in  from  luka,  loaded  heavily  with  freight  and 
swarming  with  human  beings  black  and  white.  Major  Thorn- 
ton laughed  aloud  as  he  saw  the  comical  figures  the  poor 
wretches  made  as  they  began  to  clamber  from  their  perches  to 
the  platform.  They  were  but  half-clothed,  stiff  and  cramped 
by  their  long  ride  in  such  an  uncomfortable  position.  Huge 
bundles  of  clothing  and  bedding  had  been  piled  upon  the  top 
of  cotton  bales,  and  the  smaller  children,  both  white  and  black, 
were  literally  packed  between  them,  as  the  only  mode  of  travel- 
ing safely,  never  daring  to  move  lest  they  should  fall  from  the 
train.  The  Uttle  creatures  had  become  perfectly  helpless,  and 
when  set  upon  their  feet,  were  unable  to  stand.  Some  cried 
j)Iteously,  while  others  sank  mutely  upon  the  floor,  putting  on 
most  ludicrously  long,  grave  faces. 


202  A   STORY    OF   THE    GREAT   REBELLION. 

"  Look  at  McPherson,"  exclaimed  Thornton  suddenly.  ''  I 
told  lilm  he  would  have  a  chance  to  exercise  his  benevolence." 

They  saw  the  General  reaching  up  to  aid  an  old  negro  who 
had  been  vainly  striving  to  descend  from  his  high  seat.  Catch- 
ing the  old  man's  arm  he  steadied  him  carefully  until  he  was 
safely  landed  upon  the  platform.  Then  came  the  old  woman, 
creeping  over  her  bundles  and  in  danger  of  falling  with  each 
new  essay,  until  the  General  weary  of  delay,  caught  her  in 
both  hands  and  lifted  her  bodily  from  the  train.  A  shout  of 
laughter  from  Major  Thornton  caused  him  to  look  up  reproach- 
fully, his  grave  face  expressive  of  genuine  pity  for  the  miser- 
able beings  thrown  thus  upon  his  mercy.  That  look  showed 
him  two  other  figures,  and  one  face  bright  with  approving 
smiles,  while  the  other  grave  and  sweet,  was  wet  with  tears 
which  rolled  slowly  down  her  cheeks.  It  was  enough.  Had 
he  needed  any  other  reward  than  the  approval  of  his  own 
conscience,  he  found  it  in  that  brief  glance,  and  the  picture  it 
left  in  his  memory. 

"I  do  not  see  how  you  can  do  it,"  said  Major  Thornton, 
when  the  General  came  up  again  after  his  duties  were  ended. 
"  That  anybody  can  touch  them,  is  beyond  my  comprehension. 
I  would  not  do  it  to  save  their  lives." 

"  The  time  may  come  when  your  feelings  will  be  different," 
was  the  quiet  response. 

"It  is  not  likely." 

"Suppose  you  should  get  captured  by  the  rebels  and  in 
making  your  escape  find  only  negroes  to  helj)  you,"  began 
Mrs.  Noble,  calling  to  mind  Captain  Wllfer's  story.  "Do 
you  pretend  to  say  that  your  repugnance  to  the  race  is  so 
great  that  you  could  not  be  grateful." 

"Not  that,  but  I  could  not  put  my  hands  upon  them,  or 
allow  them  to  come  very  near  me." 

"  As  the  General  says,  you  may  be  forced  to  change  your  no- 
tions at  some  future  time,  and  feel  glad  to  be  touched  by  them. 
Think  what  they  have  suffered,  and  how  faithful  they  have 
been  to  us  and  our  cause.     For  this.  If  for  nothing  else,  they 


HOMELESS   AND   FRIENDLESS.  203 

are  deserving  of  our  kindness  and  care.  They  are  homeless 
and  friendless,  if  we  turn  from  them.  Shall  we  set  them  free, 
and  then  suffer  them  to  starve  and  die  under  our  eyes,  with- 
out sympathy  or  kindness,  from  those  to  whom  they  look  for 
protection  ? 

"  As  a  class,  they  are  not  yet  fit  for  self-dependence.  It  Is 
too  sudden.  We  must  give  them  time  to  realize  that  they  are 
free,  self-dependent,  responsible  beings.  Not  only  this,  but 
we  must  teach  them  how  to  be  so.  They  have  not  known, 
and  cannot  learn  In  an  hour,  any  more  than  you  or  I  could — 
thrust  at  once  from  one  extreme  to  the  other  without  prepa- 
ration for  It." 

"This  is  all  very  well  now,  and  does  you  credit,  my  dear 
lady ;  but  just  wait  until  you  have  been  here  a  month,  and 
tasted  some  of  the  nauseous  doses  they  will  thrust  upon  you, 
and  you  will  talk  differently.  They  will  be  after  you  day  and 
night,  beg  or  steal  everything  you  care  to  keep;  tell  you 
numberless  falsehoods,  and  indulge  In  wickedness  generally. 
You  may  be  able  to  stand  it  for  awhile,  but  not  long." 

"Miss  Harmon  has  stood  It,  and  is  not  yet  disposed  to 
abandon  them  to  their  fate,"  answered  Mrs.  Noble.  "She 
has  been  here  ever  since  the  occupation  of  the  place  by  our 
forces,  and  has  had  more  to  do  with  them  than  any  one  I  know 
of,  yet  her  sympathy  is  as  strong  and  her  desire  to  aid  them, 
as  lively  as  ever.  I  hold  that  the  duties  which  cost  us  nothing 
of  taste,  feelino;  or  inclination  are  of  little  worth.  If  doing 
good  to  others  led  us  always  through  flowery,  instead  of  thorny 
paths,  there  would  be  small  merit  In  choosing  good  before  evil." 

"Women  are  queer  In  their  notions,  and  alw^iys  go  In  for 
self-sacrifice.  Place  before  them  two  hard  duties,  and  they 
will  choose  the  hardest  because  It  will  cost  them  the  greatest 
labor  and  the  deepest  pain.  They  never  seem  to  ^^hlnk  that 
it  may  be  possible  to  accomplish  the  same  ends  without  choos- 
ing the  most  difficult  means." 

Mrs.  Noble  protested  that  he  was  mistaken,  and  a^»pealed  to 
Astrea,  who  smiled  and  answered  quietly: 


204  A   STORY   OF   THE   GREAT   REBELLION. 

"  Major  Thornton  is  nearly  right.  I  have  often  noticed  that 
it  was  a  trait  in  the  character  of  our  sex  to  take  the  hardest 
of  every  duty  upon  themselves  in  preference  to  the  lighter  and 
easier  modes  of  working  to  the  same  results.  I  think  this 
arises  from  her  keener  feeling,  and  over  eagerness  to  make 
sure  of  the  right.  She  is  so  zealous  to  accomplish  good,  so 
fearful  of  not  reaching  the  highest  standard  of  right,  she  is 
almost  certain  to  rush  into  extremes  and  injure  herself  by  use- 
lessly wearing  out  her  own  strength." 

"Allow  me  to  say,  Miss  Harmon,  that  you  are  an  exact 
type  of  the  character  you  have  drawn,"  said  Major  Thornton 
starting  up  gayly,  at  which  she  blushed  and  seemed  much 
disconcerted. 

"Excuse  me,  sir;  but  you  are  too  personal.  We  were 
generalizing  subjects  I  beheve,  and  it  is  unfair  to  make  an  ap- 
plication like  this  to  me  individual' -^" 

"Forgive  me  if  I  have  offended  you,  and  I  will  promise 
better  behavior  in  future,  though  I  confess  it  does  vex  me 
sorely  to  see  you  killing  yourself  over  those  ungrateful  refu- 
gees, and  exasperating  negroes.  If  I  had  a  sister  or  a  wife 
who  could  do  so,  I  Avould  have  her  sent  to  a  lunatic  asylum." 

Something  like  the  foregoing  conversation  came^  up  every 
day,  but  failed  to  produce  any  effect  upon  the  habits  of  our 
friends.  They  went  the  same  weary  round,  and  performed 
the  same  irksome  duties;  thouo-h  the  sense  of  right  never 
grew  dull,  or  their  sympathies  less  keen.  Mrs.  Noble  de- 
fended herself  and  friend  warmly,  when  attacked,  but  Astrea 
said  little.  To  everything  calculated  to  disparage  her  prote- 
gees and  win  her  interest  away  from  them,  she  had  but  the 
one  answer,  quoted  from  the  sayings  of  One  who  died  for  such, 
"Inasmuch  as  ye  have  done  it  unto  the  least  of  these,  ye  have 
done  it  unto  me,"  this  was  all.  The  time  for  wasting  breath 
in  lengthy  arguments  had  passed,  and  she  strove  by  steady 
action  to  accomplish  what  words  had  failed  to  effect.  In  those 
days  of  toil  and  trial,  the  example  of  this  woman's  life  was 
grand.     But  only  to  one  did  she  assume  her  just  proportions, 


ANOTHER   FIERY   ORDEAL.  205 

and  that  was  the  one  who  alone  knew  the  secret  history  of 
her  life — the  ceaseless  strain  upon  her  endurance  and  self-sus- 
tainino-  power.  Captain  Wilfer  watched  her  with  adoring 
eyes — coming  to  her  side  only  to  serve,  and  when  he  could 
not  render  any  assistance,  standing  off  and  beholding  with 
reverence.  To  him  she  was  something  more  than  human — • 
angelic,  in  her  unselfish  goodness.  For  now  that  they  under- 
stood each  other,  and  she  could  rely  upon  his  honor,  her  man- 
ner became  gentle  and  kind — almost  confiding  when  he  was 
with  her.  Gradually  he  arrived  at  the  point  when  he  could 
fi2el  that  it  was  no  presumption  to  judge  of  the  motives  from 
which  she  had  acted.  Indeed  the  one  thought  which  gave 
him  a  keen  pleasure  in  the  midst  of  pain  and  disappointment, 
was  that  her  interest  in  himself  had  driven  her  to  withhold 
him  from  a  deed  that  would  have  placed  an  impassable  barrier 
between  them.  He  was  not  a  wicked  man,  or  a  selfishly  cal- 
culating lover.  If  thoughts  of  a  possibility  of  her  eventual 
freedom,  arising  out  of  the  contingencies  of  war,  ever  crossed 
his  mind,  he  banished  them  resolutely,  putting  them  from  him 
as  temptations  of  the  evil  one.  He  looked  to  the  future  with 
no  hope  of  possessing  more  than  she  had  bestowed  upon  him — 
her  friendship ;  but  he  understood  her  nobility  of  character, 
and  almost  worshiped  her  for  the  goodness,  which  made  her 
presence  a  saving  influence  to  so  many. 

As  the  fortnio-ht  drew  near  its  close,  and  Astrea  was  led  to 
realize  that  her  conceded  probation  was  at  an  end,  she  became 
very  restless  and  excitable.  Had  she  tried  to  conceal  it,  the 
truth  would  still  have  been  manifest  to  his  eyes,  and  her  silence 
made  him  inexpressibly  sad.  He  did  not  know  and  Avould 
not  ask  the  cause.  It  had  o-rown  to  be  such  a  habit  with  her 
to  keep  her  own  counsel,  and  suflPer  in  silence,  the  thought  had 
not  occurred  to  her  to  confide  in  him  until  the  hour  for  action 
had  arrived.  But  when  the  last  day's  sun  had  sunk  like  a 
great  red  ball  in  the  west,  and  she  remembered  that  its  next 
setting  would  be  upon  her  joy  or  despair,  the  burden  became 
too  great  to  bear  alone.     She  turned  to  him  as  they  sat  to- 


206  A    STORY    OF   THE    GREAT   REBELLION. 

getlier  on  the  porcli  of  her  abode,  resting  after  a  long,  hot 
walk,  and  said  earnestly : 

"  See,  the  day  is  done,  and  the  night  comes  once  more ;  and 
though  the  sun  may  rise  for  you  to-morrow,  it  may  be  to  me 
a  sunless  day,  I  dread  it,  oh,  I  dread  it!" 

"TeUme  why?" 

"I  dread  it  because  it  will  be  to  me  a  day  of  doom  if  the 
promise  he  made  that  night  be  not  fulfilled.  I  made  his  re- 
lease, or  escape,  conditional.  He  swore  to  restore  to  me  my 
child  to-morrow,  and  if  he  fails — oh,  it  will  be  fearful  for  him 
and  perhaps  death  to  me ! " 

She  leaned  her  head  upon  her  hand  and  shuddered. 

"You  did  not  tell  me  that  you  had  a  child." 

"  No ;  there  is  much  that  I  have  not  told  you,  my  friend, 
because  it  is  too  sad,  and  I  have  not  the  strength  to  bear  it. 
To  speak  much  of  my  wrongs,  would  drive  me  mad.  I  must 
curb  my  feelings  as  you  would  fetter  a  wild  animal  to  keep 
it  from  destroying  human  life.  Let  them  loose  and  if  they  do 
not  destroy  me  they  will  do  mischief  to  others.  I  am  silent 
because  I  do  not  dare  to  speak.  Yet  I  must  tell  you  a  part 
of  what  now  fiUs  my  mind,  for  I  need  your  help." 

His  face  lighted  gladly. 

"You  have  only  to  command  me." 

"I  know  that.  I  am  undeserving  of  such  ever  ready  kind- 
ness, but  I  have  no  other  friend  in  whom  I  can  confide,  and  I 
believe  that  I  owe  it  to  you  to  ask  help  first  at  your  hands, 
before  going  to  any  other." 

"  I  am  glad  that  you  appreciate  the  position  at  last,"  he  said 
with  a  smile.  *'  Yes,  you  do  owe  me  this  much,  knowing  how 
I  long  to  serve  or  comfort  you.  Now,  tell  me  all  that  you 
wish,  and  let  me  prove  myself  worthy  of  your  confidence." 

"No  need  of  further  proofs  than  I  have  had,  but  I  wiU  ex- 
plain." 

Then  she  told  him  of  the  interview,  and  the  oath  she  had 
dictated,  ending  with  the  information  that  she  must  go  to  luka 
on  the  morrow,  and  see  if  he  had  kept  his  pledge  faithfully. 


ANOTHER   FIERY   ORDEAL.  207 

"And  this,  too,  you  have  suffered!  O,  woman,  so  weak, 
so  tender  and  frail ;  and  yet  so  mighty !  I  once  told  you  that 
I  thought  you  strange ;  you  become  wonderful  now.  I  can- 
not understand  how  any  one  with  your  temj)erament  can  bear 
60  much  in  patience." 

"  I  have  been  patient  only  because  I  was  forced  to  it.  Many 
times  my  heart  has  sunk  within  me,  and  with  all  that  was 
dearest  lying  so  far  and  uncertain  in  the  future,  I  often  grew 
despairing — would  gladly  have  welcomed  the  death  which 
could  set  me  free  from  such  a  fate  as  mine.  I  told  you  once, 
when  you  called  me  '  strange '  the  first  time,  that  it  sometimes 
required  more  courage  to  live  than  to  die.  You  did  not  know 
how  much  meaning  was  in  those  words ;  and  how  often  since 
the  tempter  has  been  at  my  side,  urging  me  to  seek  that  rest 
for  which  my  soul  longs  inexpressibly." 

"  Poor  heart ;  and  you  would  give  no  confidence — seek  from 
none  the  consolation  of  sympathy !  Did  you  not  know  that, 
however  noble,  even  grand  it  may  have  been  to  suffer  and  bear 
your  burthens  alone,  it  was  fearfully  dangerous?" 

*'Yes,  I  knew  it;  but  I  did  not  forget  that  God  was  a 
friend  to  the  suffering,  and  his  mercy  has  saved  me  firom  self- 
destruction.  I  hope  I  am  stronger  noAV,  and  that  all  sinful 
thoughts  may  have  been  banished  forever.  But  if  that  man 
breaks  his  oath  I — oh,  then  God  pity  me,  for  I  know  not  what 
will  foUow." 

"You  will  still  suffer  and  be  stronjx,"  he  said,  lookincr  at  her 
with  his  clear,  manly  eyes,  whose  glance  seemed  to  inspire  her 
with  a  new  hope. 

"I  will  try,  at  least,"  she  answered,  then  added  with  a 
change  of  tone :  "  How  am  I  to  reach  luka,  and  Avhat  t^hall  1 
tell  Mrs.  Xoble?  I  cannot  yet  give  her  the  story,  for  when 
she  hears  anything,  she  must  have  it  in  full." 

"You  intend  to  tell  her  sometime?" 

"Yes." 

"Then  why  not  take  her  with  you,  and  tell  her  afterwards? 
Her  presence  will  be  a  sustaining  influence,  and  you  may  need 


208  A    STORY   OF   THE   GREAT   REBELLION. 

her.  Besides,  if  you  will  allow  me  to  say  it,  I  think  you  owe 
it  to  her  to  tell  her  all  your  history.  She  will  only  love  you 
more  for  it,  and  never  will  betray  your  trust,  I  feel  assured." 

"I  never  doubted  her  trustworthiness,  and  you  must  not 
mistake  my  motives  in  having  withheld  from  her  my  private 
history.  That  she  is  deserving,  I  know  well,  and  I  bless  her 
every  day  of  my  life  for  her  goodness  to  me  and  her  faithful 
fi-iendship.  I  have  not  told  her,  because  I  had  not  the  heart 
to  do  it.  Her  sympathy  would  have  driven  me  wild,  and 
broken  me  down.  I  could  not  Hve  under  a  perpetually  com- 
passionate gaze,  and  hear  words  of  tenderness  and  pity  for  me 
in  my  misfortunes.  It  was  necessary  that  I  should  seal  my 
lips  and  bear  my  fate  mutely,  giving  no  sign,  if  I  would  keep 
my  strength  for  the  accomplishment  of  my  one  purpose.  She 
could  have  done  nothino;  for  me,  and  Avhat  should  I  have  gained 
by  my  confidence  ?  Had  circumstances  not  forced  me  to  tell 
you,  I  would  still  be  in  sole  possession  of  my  secret." 

"  Proud  woman !  Obdurate  and  unwise  little  being !  You 
know  not  what  you  do,  when  you  shut  yourself  out  from  pure, 
ti'ue  sympathy." 

"Tell  me  what  to  do,"  she  asked  wearily.  "I  have  almost 
worn  myself  out,  and  cannot  think  with  any  clearness." 

"May  I  plan  for  you?" 

"Yes." 

""We  will  take  the  early  train  for  luka,  and  go  for  some 
specified  purpose  which  I  will  arrange  before  communicating 
with  ]Mrs.  Xoble.  Leave  her  to  me,  and  I  will  save  you  from 
all  questioning,  if  you  desire  it,  until  after  your  errand  is  done, 
and  you  know  the  result.  When  we  get  to  luka,  I  will  see 
the  officer  in  command,  and  explain  that  I  expect  a  flag  of 
truce  to  meet  me  with  a  message.  There  is  no  help  for  this, 
but  if  it  excites  comment,  my  presence  will  save  you  from 
suspicion  of  treacherous  communication  with  the  rebels,  and 
no  one  can  know  more  than  the  fact  that  you  had  private 
business.  If  you  were  to  go  alone  with  me  it  would  not  be 
prudent." 


LASTING    SYMrATIIY    AND    KINDNESS.  209 

lie  spoke  with  reluctance,  and  her  cheeks  crimsoned ;  but 
she  felt  grateful  for  his  candor.  He  was  thoughtful  for  awhile, 
then  asked  if  she  were  absolutely  obliged  to  go  herself. 

"I  said  that  I  would  be  there,  and  I  could  not  wait  in  sus- 
pense.    Yes,  I  must  go." 

"But  you  trust  all  arrangements  to  me?" 

"WUlingly." 

"That  is  enough.  Now  retire  and  take  all  the  rest  you 
can.     "When  morning  comes  everything  will  be  ready." 

She  obeyed  like  a  child.  There  was  a  sweet  sense  of 
safety  and  reliance  in  his  manner,  which  set  her  at  ease,  and 
dismissed  all  fears.  She  had  at  once  come  into  an  unbounded 
confidence  in  his  ability  to  accomplish  what  he  undertook; 
and  hers  was  a  nature  that  trusted  wholly  if  at  all.  It  was 
with  a  feeling  of  intense  relief  that  she  resigned  herself  to 
his  care,  casting  the  whole  necessity  of  immediate  action  into 
steadier  hands.  He  had  not  promised  more  than  he  was  able 
to  fulfill,  as  she  found  when  morning  came,  and  he  knocked  at 
her  door,  in  company  with  Mrs.  Noble.  That  lady  walked 
up  to  her  and  clamping  both  arms  closely  around  her  form, 
whispered  in  her  ear: 

"  My  poor,  suflTering  one,  be  at  rest — trust  in  my  love,  and 
God  grant  you  peace  soon.  This  little  wan  fnce,  and  wasted 
figure  fill  me  with  the  deepest  sympathy." 

"Don't! — don't  talk  like  that,"  she  said  brokenly.  "I 
mu:=t  be  strong  to-day." 

"  So  you  shall  be,"  changing  her  tone  to  one  of  light  raillery. 
"  Captain  Wilfer  approves  of  strength  quite  as  much  as  you 
do,  and  in  order  to  make  sure  of  it,  has  filled  both  pockets. 
I  will  wager  if  you  were  to  empty  them,  you  would  find 
in  one  a  bottle  of  the  strongest  and  vilest  brandy,  while  the 
other  would  give  forth  a  sandwich  or  two  with  a  very  small 
piece  of  ham  and  a  great  deal  of  mustard — some  stale  cheese 
and  some  sour  pickles.  If  there  is  not  enough  '  strength '  in 
these,  you  will  find  an  addition  in  his  quarters,  where  my  hus- 
band avers  that  he  keeps  an  old  meerschaum  that  would  out- 
11 


210  A    STORY   OF   THE    GREAT   REBELLIOX. 

rank  our  Commanding  General  quite  as  easily  as  the  butter 
on  the  Mississippi  steamers." 

"I  shall  have  to  sue  the  Major  for  damages  if  he  continues 
to  Injure  my  character  in  this  way,"  protested  the  Captain. 
To  Astrea  this  sounded  heartless  and  mocking,  though  she 
knew  that  neither  felt  anything  but  sympathy  for  her  distress. 
At  the  same  time,  it  had  its  desired  effect,  and  checked  the 
rush  of  feelincjs  which  had  threatened  to  unnerve  her.  Her 
head  lifted  itself  proudly  as  she  announced  herself  ready,  and 
there  was  a  half-angry  light  in  her  large  eyes.  How  could 
they  jest  so  carelessly  when  they  knew  that  she  was  suffering 
such  terrible  agony  of  mind  ?  Did  they  realize  what  this  day 
was  to  be,  and  still  find  it  possible  to  laugh  in  her  face  ? 

By  the  time  they  reached  the  cars,  she  had  overcome  the 
angry  feelings  which  their  manner  caused  her,  and  was  ready 
to  censure  herself  severely  for  the  injustice  done  her  best 
friends.  The  wrong;  was  all  in  herself.  She  would  not  ac- 
cept  of  sympathy,  or  permit  lightness  without  breaking  down 
or  feeling  angry  and  aggrieved.  How  very  unreasonable  and 
exacting  does  sorrow  make  us?  A  better  impulse  rose  with 
the  exercise  of  her  judgment  over  feeling,  and  she  exerted 
herself  to  appear  more  composed  and  cheerful,  meeting  their 
efforts  to  aid  her  with  gentleness  and  a  show  of  gratitude  that 
touched  them  to  the  heart.  On  reaching  luka,  Cajitaln  Wilfer 
sought  the  officer  in  command  and  asked  a  private  interview, 
in  which  he  stated  briefly  his  business. 

"Is  not  this  rather  a  singular  proceeding  for  a  loyal  man?" 
asked  the  gentleman  with  a  smile,  while  he  regarded  the  Cap- 
tain with  keen  scrutiny.  "I  should  think  you  would  be 
afraid  of  finding  your  motives  misconstrued  In  the  end." 

"  The  man  who  acts  from  a  knowledge  of  pure  motives,  is 
afraid  of  nothing,  sir.  This  lady  has  asked  me  to  act  for  her 
In  a  difficult  position,  and  having  fully  tested  her  worth  by 
long  and  close  observation,  I  can  vouch  for  the  safety  of  my 
present  proceeding.  She  has  been  unfortunate  in  her  domes- 
tic relations,  and  her  presence  here  is  to  learn  something  of  a 


►  A   FLAG    OF   TRUCE.  211 

child  who  was  taken  from  her.  This  I  confide  to  you  as  a 
man  of  honor,  for  her  history  it  is  desirable  that  no  one  should 
know  at  present,  and  as  a  generous  man,  I  trust  to  your  aid 
to  assist  us  without  excitino;  comment." 

"  You  expect  a  messenger  with  a  flag  of  truce  ?  He  will 
come  in  from  the  South,  of  course.  On  condition  that  I  be 
permitted  to  see  that  the  communication  is  of  the  natui'e  you 
describe,  I  will  order  out  my  horse  and  go  with  you,  taking 
no  one  else  as  a  witness  to  the  interview." 
"I  will  first  consult  the  lady." 

Captain  Wilfer  went  to  Astrea  and  spoke  earnestly  for  sev- 
eral moments,  then  came  back  and  reported  favorably.  The 
lady  was  willing  that  he  should  be  made  acquainted  with  all 
necessary  details  in  order  to  shield  her  friends  and  herself 
from  a  suspicion  of  treachery,  but  it  was  not  an  easy  thing  for 
her  to  do  this.  While  Captain  Wilfer  was  completing  ar- 
rangements, she  leaned  her  head  against  Helen's  shoulder  as 
she  sat  beside  her  in  a  small  room  adjoining  the  ofl5cer's  quar- 
ters, and  moaned  bitterly  : 

"How  long  shall  I  be  subjected  to  such  hard  conditions? 
I  must  bare  my  heart  to  the  unfeeling  gaze  of  every  stranger, 
else  be  suspected  of  evil." 

"Is  it  unnatural,  dear?  These  are  times  when  the  safety 
of  our  land  compels  us  to  be  careful.  Do  not  think  hardly  of 
the  man  for  doing  his  duty." 

An  ambulance  had  been  ordered  out  ostensibly  to  drive  the 
ladies  over  the  place,  and  the  two  gentlemen  were  standing 
outside  in  conversation,  when  an  orderly  rode  up  and  reported 
a  flag  of  truce  at  the  picket  lines.  Colonel  Heston  turned  at 
once  to  his  guest : 

"I  thmk  I  must  ride  out  immediately  and  see  what  is  to  be 
gained.  Would  you  like  to  accompany  me,  Captain  Wilfer? 
And  by  the  way,  it  would  be  a  treat  to  the  ladies  to  go.  Sup- 
pose you  invite  them." 

Ten  minutes  later,  the  party  set  out,  accompanied  only  by 
a  couple  of  orderlies.     Colonel  Heston  said  nothing  to  any  of 


212  A    STORY    OF    THE    GREAT    REBELLIOX. 

the  otlier  officers,  and  no  comment  was  made.  Such  inter- 
views were  of  too  frequent  occurrence  to  occasion  any  great 
interest,  even  had  they  known  of  the  fact. 

"  Remain  here,"  commanded  Colonel  Heston,  turning  to  his 
orderlies  as  they  neared  the  spot  and  saw  three  men  with  a 
flag  of  truce  waiting  near  the  pickets.  They  at  once  drew 
rein  a  little  in  the  rear  of  the  party,  and  the  two  gentlemen 
rode  forward. 

"What  is  your  business  here?"  asked  the  Colonel  of  the 
foremost  of  the  three  who  had  advanced  to  meet  them. 

"  I  come  on  special  and  private  business  with  a  lady." 

"  From  whom,"  asked  Captain  Wilfer. 

■"  Colonel  Passiver,  lately  the  guest  of  a  Federal  officer  in 
the  United  States  service.  I  beheve  that  he  eluded  the  too 
great  kindness  of  his  host,  and  returned  to  the  bosom  of  his 
friends.  This  will  probably  convey  his  regrets,  but  is  ad- 
dressed to  a  lady,  and  as  two  are  with  you  I  presume  it  is  to 
one  of  them  that  this  must  be  directed." 

"By  her  authority  we  receive  it." 

The  document  was  placed  in  Colonel  Heston's  hand,  and  he 
rode  back  to  the  ambulance,  tearing  the  cover  as  he  went. 

"I  thought,  ladies,  you  might  like  to  see  a  rebel  document, 
so  I  bring  it  to  you  to  gratify  your  curiosity,  if  you  have  any." 

He  pretended  to  glance  over  it,  then  carelessly  handed  it  to 
Astrea.  She  gave  one  long  look  at  the  few  lines  traced  upon 
the  page  and  gave  it  back  to  him,  saying  in  a  low  voice : 

"  There  is  a  reply.  Say  that  as  he  has  dealt  with  me,  so 
will  God  deal  with  him.     That  is  all." 

She  shrank  back  and  half  concealed  her  face  while  he  lin- 
gered to  chat  with  Mrs.  Noble  for  a  moment.  In  a  short  time 
he  returned  to  where  Captain  Wilfer  waited  him,  and  dis- 
missed the  messeno-er  with  her  answer.  The  men  turned  and 
galloped  back  over  the  dusty  road  by  which  they  had  come, 
leaving  our  friends  to  themselves. 

Colonel  Heston  gave  the  paper  to  Captain  Wilfer. 

"  I  have  not  read  it  and  do  not  desire  to  do  so,  feehng  as- 


A    CRUSHING    DISAPPOINTMENT.  213 

surcd  that  your  representation  is  correct.  Restore  it  to  the 
lady  when  convenient." 

"But  you  have  her  pei*mission,  and  I  think  you  ought  to 
knoAV  the  contents.  It  may  be  the  safest  course  for  all  parties 
concerned." 

The  Colonel  remained  thou2;htful  for  a  moment  and  ajjain 
took  the  paper.     Its  contents  were  brief  and  concise : 

"Madam, — After  deliberate  reflection,  I  have  come  to  the 
conclusion  that  my  first  duty  lies  in  punishing  an  open  rebel 
to  the  cause  of  the  South.  I  took  an  oath  to  restore  your 
child,  but  it  was  from  the  lips  only  and  not  meant  to  be  kept. 
*A11  things  are  fair  in  love  and  war,'  so  I  am  justified.  If 
you  had  not  done  so  much  against  us,  I  would  say  come  back 
and  give  your  aid  to  the  cause  of  freedom  now,  and  I  will  still 
keep  my  oath  and  restore  your  daughter.  But  the  time  is 
past.  You  have  done  too  much  and  it  only  remains  for  me  to 
punish  you  by  any  means  in  my  power.  The  child's  face  you 
shall  never  see  again,  and  my  constant  wish  shall  be  that  you 
may  die  a  bloody  and  fearful  death — such  as  traitors  alone 
deserve." 

"Horrible!"  ejaculated  the  Colonel.  "No  wonder  her 
cheeks  blanched  to  the  whiteness  of  snow." 

The  two  advanced  and  saw  Astrea  sitting  upright,  her  eyes 
widely  staring  straight  before  her.  Helen  looked  frightened 
and  distressed,  vainly  striving  to  win  her  attention.  When- 
ever she  touched  her,  she  would,  with  strong,  fierce  move- 
ments, fling  her  hands  away,  shuddering  violently. 

"Let  her  alone,"  whispered  the  Captain  with  a  face  as 
white  as  the  stony  features  of  the  unhappy  woman  before 
him.     "  We  will  now  return  home  as  quickly  as  possible." 

From  that  time  forward,  Astrea  uttered  no  word  until  after 
they  had  reached  Corinth  and  she  found  herself  in  her  own 
room  with  only  Helen  beside  her.  Not  a  tinge  of  color  came 
back  to  her  face — not  one  rigid  line  relaxed.  She  seemed  to 
have  congealed  to  stone  under  the  feai-ful  ordeal,  and  a  terrible 
crisis  had  come  which  filled  her  fi-iends  with  the  keenest  alarm. 


214  A   STORY   OF   THE   GREAT   REBELLION. 

"  Stay  with  her  and  let  her  weep  freely,  if  she  will.  Tears 
may  relieve  her,  and  save  her  from  insanity.  I  will  explain 
your  absence  to  the  Major.  If  I  send  for  a  physician,  too 
much  will  be  at  stake.  Already  I  have  been  forced  to  place 
both  her  and  myself  in  the  power  of  another,  and  I  dare  not 
go  further." 

"I  promise  you  faithflilly  to  do  all  I  can.  You  had  better 
keep  away  until  I  send  you  word  to  come  to  me." 

"  Then  send  me  word  soon.  This  is  torture  worse  than  you 
ever  dreamed." 

Helen's  ready  tears  flowed  silently  down  her  cheeks,  but 
neither  could  speak,  and  he  Avent  out  abruptly  to  hide  his 
ao-itation,  while  she  returned  to  Astrea. 


CHAPTER    XVII. 
A    SERIOUS    COMPLICATION    AND    ITS    RESULT. 

Captaix  "Wilfer  hurried  away  from  Mrs.  Noble's  presence 
to  the  iSIajor's  office  and  informed  him  that  Miss  Harmon  had 
returned  quite  ill,  and  that  his  wife  proposed  to  remain  with 
her  awhile,  hoping  that  she  would  soon  be  better.  From 
there  he  went  to  his  own  quarters  and  sat  down  alone  to  re- 
flect upon  all  that  had  transpired. 

It  may  be  thought  that  he  had  acted  without  wisdom  in 
what  he  had  done ;  but  it  was  not  so.  Fully  aware  of  the 
danger  he  had  braved,  he  had  boldly  planned,  and  executed 
his  plans,  willing  to  suffer  the  consequences  if  he  could  aid 
this  woman  for  whom  he  would  have  risked  his  life  cheerfully. 
The  step  he  had  taken,  owning  a  knowledge  of  Colonel  Pas- 
siver's  intentions  by  meeting  a  messenger  of  his  according  to 
a  previous  appointment,  was  sufficient  in  itself,  to  fix  upon 
him  a  suspicion  of  complicity  in  his  escape — certainly  enough 
to  involve  her  in  trouble  should  any  difficulty  arise.  He  had 
hope  from  two  things  only,  to  preserve  them  from  suspicion 
and  the  affiiir  from  investigation.  Colonel  Heston  had  been 
too  actively  engaged  at  the  time  of  the  rebel's  escape  to  pay 
much  attention  to  what  was  going  on  at  Corinth,  and  might 
not  think  of  identifying  him  with  the  man  from  whom  the 
message  came.  If  suspicion  should  arise  in  his  mind,  would 
he  consider  it  his  duty  to  have  the  matter  investigated  further? 
He  seemed  a  kind  man,  and  he  believed  him  to  be  a  trust- 
worthy friend,  who  would  not  betray  a  woman's  trust  when 


216  A    STOKY    OF    THE    GREAT    EEBELLIOX. 

in  deep  trouble.  Then  the  nature  of  the  communication  Avas 
in  her  favor,  proving  her  loyalty  and  the  suffering  it  had  cost 
her  to  be  true  to  the  cause  she  had  adopted.  After  long  and 
serious  meditation,  he  concluded  that  it  was  best  to  let  affairs 
take  their  own  course,  and  if  any  difficulty  should  arise,  he 
would  go  to  General  Grant  and  confide  to  him  the  whole  story 
from  first  to  last,  and  throw  himself  upon  his  mercy. 

A  sharp  rap  on  the  door  roused  him  from  his  reveries,  and 
he  opened  it  to  receive  a  penciled  line  from  Mrs.  Noble.  As- 
trea  was  better,  and  had  fallen  into  a  quiet  slumber,  after  a 
long  spell  of  weeping,  and  she  hoped  the  result  would  be  very 
much  in  her  favor.  Captain  Wilfer  looked  at  his  watch  and 
saw  that  it  was  half-past  ten  o'clock.  He  had  been  shut  up 
alone  four  hours !  How  the  time  had  sped !  But  those  hours 
had  brought  sleep  to  the  heavy  eyes  of  many  a  suffering  one — 
above  all  to  Astrea,  and  he  was  thankful,  to  weakness.  Ee- 
suming  his  chair  with  the  little  note  clasped  in  his  hand,  he 
bowed  his  face  upon  his  arms  as  they  lay  on  the  table,  and 
shed  the  first  tears  that  had  moistened  his  eyes  since  that 
memorable  night  amid  the  dead  and  wounded  on  the  banks  of 
the  IMississippi. 

Morning  found  him  still  there.  He  had  not  slept,  nor  had 
he  heeded  the  hours  as  they  waned,  until  daylight  came.  All 
the  night  he  had  thought  only  of  her  and  her  sufferings — had 
longed  intensely  for  the  privilege  of  shielding  her  from  the  ills  of 
the  future.  He  had  no  hope  that  such  a  happiness  might  ever 
be  his ;  no  dreams  were  allowed  to  lure  him  from  the  path  of 
honor  and  duty,  even  in  thought.  He  was  schooling  himself 
to  control  every  impulse  which  tendered  to  make  him  forget 
his  proper  position ;  and  with  all  that  great,  unselfish  love  and 
longing  in  his  heart,  he  had  resolved  to  keep  away  from  her, 
save  when  she  needed  help.  To  seek  her  society  was  to  sap 
away  by  degrees,  the  foundation  on  which  he  had  built  up  his 
resolves ;  so  he  would  not  seek  her  only  in  her  time  of  need. 
Then  he  would  be  ever  by  her  side,  watchful  and  faithful  to 
the  end,  in  her  interests. 


AN    INTERVIEW    -SVITH    GENERAL    GllANT.  217 

As  the  sun  rose  he  roused  himself  for  tlic  duties  of  the  day, 
and  after  arranging  his  toilet,  he  took  a  little  bible  from  his 
pocket  and  read  several  chapters,  then  knelt  and  prayed  fci'- 
vontly.  ILs  was  an  earnest  and  careful  nature,  out  of  which 
faith,  charity  and  generosity  rose  spontaneously.  He  lived  in 
the  love  and  fear  of  a  Divine  Master,  on  whom  he  cast  now, 
the  whole  burthen  of  his  future,  resigning  hunself  to  His  will 
without  reserve. 

A  messenger  sent  to  Mrs.  Noble,  came  back  with  an  answer 
to  the  effect  that  INIiss  Harmon  still  rested  well,  though  in  a 
slin-ht  fever.  Doubtless  it  was  only  the  result  of  over-excite- 
ment,  and  would  soon  pass  away.  This  did  not  trouble  him. 
It  seemed  natural  enough  that  she  should  be  somewhat  feverish 
after  the  ordeal  of  the  day  previous ;  but  rest  would  overcome 
that,  and  he  grew  hopeful  in  thinking  that  she  would  soon  re- 
cover. Taking  up  his  hat  and  gloves,  he  walked  out  and 
crossed  slowly  to  the  hotel  where  he  ordered  his  breakfast. 
AYhile  at  the  table,  a  man  came  up  to  him  and  said  in  his  ear : 

"  General  Grant  desires  your  presence  at  his  head-quarters 
immediately." 

"Say  that  I  obey  his  commands;  I  must  order  my  horse 
first." 

"  All  rio-ht,"  and  the  man  went  out  without  further  words. 

"Heston  has  betrayed  me,"  was  his  first  thought,  but  it 
was  immediately  spurned  as  unjust.  Eecalling  the  face  and 
manner  of  the  o^cer,  it  was  hard  to  believe  that  he  would 
take  any  steps  to  sink  a  woman  like  Astrea  Harmon  into 
deeper  trouble. 

He  gave  the  order  for  his  horse,  and  by  the  time  he  had 
finished  his  breakfast,  it  was  at  the  door.  Mounting  it,  he 
galloped  away  rapidly  to  obey  the  General's  command.  He 
found  General  Grant  In  the  small  private  room  which  has 
been  mentioned,  pacing  the  floor.  Colonel  Heston  sat  over 
against  the  south  window,  looking  pale  and  distui'bed.  One 
jylance  showed  that  whatever  the  trouble  might  be,  he  had  not 
willfully  originated  it.     Another  man  was  present  whom  he 


218  A   STORY   OF   THE    GREAT   REBELLION. 

did  not  know,  and  who  sat  with  a  curious  smile  upon  his  lips, 
closely  regarding  our  hero.  Evidently  he  enjoyed  his  position 
with  great  relish. 

"  Captain  Wilfer,  I  have  sent  for  you  to  answer  to  a  serious 
charge  made  against  you.    Are  you  prepared  for  self-defence  ?  " 

"I  am,  sir." 

"Where  were  you  yesterday?" 

"At  luka,  by  your  permission." 

"  For  what  did  you  go  there  ?  " 

"To  render  aid  to  a  lady  Avho  was  in  great  distress." 

"Will  you  tell  me  the  nature  of  the  lady's  trouble,  and 
why  you  should  endanger  your  reputation  as  a  loyal  man  and 
an  officer  by  such  a  step  ?  " 

"Privately,  yes;  but  I  would  most  respectfully  beg  that 
you  do  not  require  me  to  speak  of  that  which  concerns  others 
in  the  presence  of  strangers."  He  glanced  at  the  man  oppo- 
site to  him,  who  answered  insolently : 

"It  is  not  worth  while  to  be  over  modest  with  me,  since  I 
know  all  about  it.  I  have  had  my  eye  upon  a  good  many  move- 
ments that  people  fancy  themselves  secure  in.  But  the  time 
will  come,  when  like  you,  they  will  find  themselves  mistaken." 

"Yv^ill  General  Grant  request  this  gentleman  to  make  his 
charge  distinctly  in  my  presence?"  asked  Captain  Wilfer, 
coolly.  "  Since  he  knows  so  much,  it  is  best  to  hear  his  charge 
and  put  it  to  the  proof." 

The  General  turned  toward  the  stranger  sternly : 

"Speak,  sir." 

"  I  charge  you  with  having  aided  in  the  escape  of  the  rebel 
officer.  Colonel  Passiver,  whom  you  brought  a  prisoner  to  this 
place,  and  who,  on  your  own  testimony,  was  condemned  to  die." 

"  You  must  assign  some  reason  for  such  extraordinary  con- 
duct on  the  part  of  an  officer  of  Caj^ain  Wilfer's  standing," 
remarked  General  Grant,  dryly.  The  accuser  smiled  again, 
foUowino;  the  smile  with  a  short  laugh. 

"That  is  easy  enough.  Adam  was  tempted  in  the  Garden 
of  Eden  to  an  act  of  disobedience  by  a  woman ;  and  Captain 


FOR  THE  SAKE  OF  REVENGE.  219 

Wilter  is  not  the  first  and  only  man  in  the  Federal  service, 
who  for  the  love  of  woman,  has  turned  traitor  to  his  country." 

"Then  I  am  distinctly  to  understand  that  you  charge  me 
with  beino"  a  traitor  to  the  Federal  cause,  and  the  reason  for 
it  lies  m  my  love  for  some  lady,  who,  of  course  you  charge 
with  being  a  rebel." 

"  Yes,  a  rebel  and  a  spy." 

"Are  you  ready  with  proofs?  Be  good  enough  to  state  in 
the  first  place,  on  what  grounds  you  base  the  charge  of  giving 
aid  to  the  escape  of  Colonel  Passiver." 

"Miss  Harmon  is  known  to  me — has  been  for  some  time — - 
at  least,  the  lady  calling  herself  by  that  name.  That  there 
was  a  mystery  attached  to  her,  I  have  known  also,  since  I 
first  saw  her.  The  nature  of  it  I  could  not  more  than  guess 
until  recently.  But  it  was  all  made  plain  on  the  day  previous 
to  Colonel  Passiver's  escape.  I  happened  to  be  near  her  when 
she  overheard  some  soldiers  talking  about  the  execution  of  the 
rebel's  sentence,  and  when  they  mentioned  his  name,  she  sud- 
denly turned  white  and  threw  up  her  hands  with  a  sharp  cry, 
then  pressed  them  tightly  over  her  heart.  This  was  enough 
to  attract  my  attention,  and  I  observed  all  her  movements  after 
that.  She  went  immediately  home  and  ordered  an  ambulance 
from  the  Quartermaster's  department.  In  the  course  of  an 
hour  she  was  driven  to  this  place ;  General  Grant  will  doubt- 
less remember  that  visit  and  its  import.  When  she  returned, 
I  saw  by  her  face,  of  which  I  caught  a  glimpse,  that  she  had 
been  unsuccessful.  As  she  passed  the  hotel,  Captain  Wilfer 
saw  and  followed  her.  She  waited  and  spoke  to  him  at  the 
o'ate,  then  both  entered  the  house  together.  He  remained  for 
sometime,  after  which  he  rode  out  here,  and  I  supposed  that 
he  came  on  the  same  errand,  and  was  quite  as  unsuccessful  to 
all  appearance.  But  that  night  I  saw  them  leave  her  house 
together  and  go  to  the  prison,  where  the  rebel  was  confined. 
A  few  moments  later  I  entered  and  went  into  a  room  adjoin- 
ing, where  I  had  been  called  to  see  a  patient,  and  Captain 
Wilfer  saw  me.     I  heard  him  ask  the  guard  who  I  was,  and 


220  A   STOEY    OF   THE    GREAT   REBELLIOX. 

also  heard  the  answer,  that  I  was  the  physician  who  attended 
the  sick  prisoners.  He  paid  no  further  attention  to  me,  and 
wliile  in  that  room  I  heard  a  part  of  Miss  Harmon's  conver- 
sation. I  could  only  catch  fragments,  however,  by  which  I 
learned  that  he  was  her  hushand  and  that  she  promised  to  lib- 
erate him ;  also  that  a  meeting  for  some  purpose  was  appointed 
at  luka  within  a  fortnight.  Until  I  heard  that  I  fully  meant 
to  report  proceedings  and  arrest  them  before  it  was  too  late ; 
but  the  thought  occurred  to  me  that  some  valuable  informa- 
tion might  be  gained  by  delay,  and  I  concluded  to  wait,  re- 
solving at  the  same  time  to  be  on  my  guard  and  not  allow  her 
to  convey  any  important  information  to  the  rebels.  The  day 
previous  to  the  one  appointed  for  the  meeting  I  went  to  luka 
and  carefully  took  note  of  everything  that  occurred.  Captain 
Wilfer  communicated  privately  with  Colonel  Heston,  and  they 
went  with  the  ladies  to  the  picket  lines,  taking  only  two  order- 
lies whom  they  kept  in  the  rear  during  the  interview.  A 
paper  Avas  carried  to  Miss  Harmon  to  look  at,  which  Colonel 
Heston  has  now  in  his  possession  if  he  has  not  destroyed  it. 
Perhaps  if  General  Grant  will  demand  the  paper,  it  may  ex- 
plain in  itself,  more  than  I  can  of  the  nature  of  that  interview 
with  the  rebel  messenger.  I  considered  it  my  duty  to  return 
here  as  soon  as  possible  and  inform  the  commanding  officer  of 
what  I  had  seen  and  heard.  The  result  was  a  dispatch  to 
Colonel  Heston  and  an  order  to  yourself  to  appear  before  him 
for  the  purpose  of  answering  to  the  charges  I  have  made.  If 
you  can  defend  yourself,  do  so." 

"If  Colonel  Heston  has  the  paper  spoken  of,  he  will  be 
good  enough  to  produce  it,"  said  Captain  Wilfer,  tuniing  to 
his  fellow-officer. 

It  was  produced,  and  read  by  the  General  thoughtfully. 

"  This  matter  is  more  complicated  than  it  appeared  at  first, 
and  will  require  further  investigation.  Doctor  Gray,  you 
will  consider  youi'self  under  arrest  and  held  for  evidence,  as 
well  as  to  justify  yourself,  if  justification  be  necessary.  You 
can  now  retire  until  called  for." 


A  DISCOMFITED   MEDDLEE.  221 

The  two  officers  exchanged  glances  as  the  discomfited  In- 
former rose  in  some  ah^rm. 

"I  hope,  General  Grant"— he  began  confusedly,  but  the 
Genend  coolly  stopped  him. 

"  Excuse  me  if  I  decline  to  listen  to  anything  further  from 
you  at  present.  You  must  be  aware,  sir,  that  your  course 
has  been  a  singular  one,  and  betrays  motives  of  a  personal 
nature,  which  it  is  my  duty  to  investigate.  If  through  any 
desire  for  personal  revenge,  or  any  hatred  on  your  part,  which 
has  induced  you  to  undertake  the  ruin  of  loyal  men— and 
place  me  in  the  position  I  now  hold  towards  my  officers," 
looking  at  Ileston  and  Wilfer,  "rest  assured,  that  you  will 
have  your  reward." 

Doctor  Gray  was  pale  and  trembling  with  anger  and  fear. 

"  Take  care,  General  Grant,  that  your  own  course  in  this 
affiiir  be  not  such  as  to  cause  you  to  be  suspected  of  knowing 
more  about  it  yourself  than  you  w^ould  like  to  have  made 
public." 

"  You  will  be  good  enough  to  retire,  sir,  and  withhold  both 

threats  and  advice." 

As  Doctor  Gray  went  out,  the  General  followed  him  and 
ordered  him  under  the  custody  of  the  officer  of  the  guard, 
who  accompanied  him  to  the  guard-house  to  await  further 
orders  from  the  Commander. 

"  Now  gentlemen,  let  me  have  the  whole  story  freely,"  said 
he  retumino-  to  the  room  in  which  he  had  left  them.  Captain 
AVilfer  answered  him  at  once. 

"  Colonel  Heston's  part  in  this  matter  has  been  trifling,  and 
I  beg  you  to  allow  me  to  exonerate  him  from  all  complicity. 
I  sought  and  told  him  that  a  flag  of  truce  was  expected  with 
dispatches  of  a  private,  domestic  nature,  and  that  I  would 
vouch  for  the  loyalty  of  the  lady  under  my  care.  He  accom- 
panied us  on  condition  that  he  might  be  allowed  to  see  that 
no  communication  of  a  dangerous  character  was  held,  and  you 
have  in  your  hand  the  only  document  that  was  received.  To 
you,  privately,  I  am  ready  to  render  a  full  account  of  my 


222  A   STORY   OF   THE   GREAT   REBELLION. 

actions  and  my  motives.  But  Colonel  Heston  has  done  liis 
duty  faithfully,  and  I  am  sorry  to  have  been  the  cause  of 
annoyance  to  him." 

"  He  can  consider  himself  exonerated,  and  at  liberty  to 
retire  when  it  pleases  him,'  though  he  is  well  aware  that  he 
had  no  right  to  receive  a  flag  of  truce  without  my  authority." 

Colonel  Heston,  with  a  few  words  of  thanks  and  a  warm 
grasp  of  Captain  Wilfer's  hand,  withdrew. 

"  Now,  sir,  what  have  you  to  say  to  the  charges  mdde 
against  you,  and  in  justification  of  your  actions." 

"  Much,  I  think,  if  you  have  patience  to  listen." 

"Goon." 

"  Doctor  Gray  is  right  in  charging  me  with  a  deep  attach- 
ment for  Miss  Harmon.  I  own  it  to  you,  while  at  the  same 
time  I  know  that  I  dare  not  speak  of  it  to  her.  Some  months 
ago  I  met  her  for  the  first  time,  and  before  I  was  aware  of  the 
fact  myself  became  deeply  interested  in  her.  It  is  due  to  her 
to  say  that  I  never  received  encouragement  from  her  manner 
in  any  way  whatever.  She  repelled  me  positively,  almost 
with  rudeness  at  times,  I  think  in  order  to  destroy  my  inter- 
est. The  last  time  I  saw  her  was  at  Paducah,  where  she  had 
labored  day  and  night  for  the  sick  in  the  hospitals  there,  after 
some  of  the  noblest  actions  I  had  ever  witnessed,  during  our 
trip  down  the  Mississippi.  At  Shiloh  I  was  taken  prisoner, 
escaping  but  recently,  as  you  know.  When  I  came  here  1 
found  her  engaged  as  before,  wasting  her  life  away  in  cease- 
less toil.  Every  one  spoke  of  her  in  the  highest  terms,  and 
the  interest,  which  with  me  had  never  waned,  was  kindled  to 
as  passionate  and  yet  pure  devotion  as  ever  man  cherished  for 
woman.  After  that  visit  to  you,  she  in  her  despair  appealed 
to  me  to  save  her  husband.  God  only  knows  what  that  cost 
me.  General  Grant,  but  I  could  not  resist  the  appeal,  loving 
her  as  I  did — I  could  not  be  the  instrument  of  his  death,  and 
hope  for  happiness  again  on  earth !  I  came  to  you  and  asked 
his  life  on  the  grounds  of  my  faithful  service  and  late  imprison- 
ment, which  you  refused.     As  you  are  aware,  I  did  not  press 


A    FRANK   CONFESSION.  223 

the  matter,  lest  you  should  suspect  too  much,  and  for  her  sake 
I  did  not  desire  to  commit  myself.  What  you  did  think  then 
of  my  strange  conduct,  you  know  best.  I  had  been  very 
bitter  against  him  and  was  suddenly  forced  to  change  from 
severity  to  leniency,  and  to  try  and  save  his  life.  Failing 
with  you,  I  planned  to  have  him  escape,  and  succeeded.  As 
for  her,  she  is  innocent  of  the  whole  transaction.  I  took  her 
to  see  him,  telling  her  that  I  hoped  to  set  him  free,  and  she 
could  have  one  interview  if  she  desired  it.  The  nature  of 
that  interview  I  did  not  know  until  a  few  days  since,  when 
she  asked  me  to  assist  her  and  told  me  why.  She  had  a  child 
whom  he  had  pledged  himself  under  oath  to  restore  to  her, 
and  for  that  she  was  to  meet  his  messenger.  Can  you  con- 
demn the  woman  who  has  lost  home,  friends,  wealth,  and  even 
her  child  because  of  her  loyalty  to  the  Union?  Look  at  her 
course  anion o-st  us — see  what  she  has  done — mark  the  anguish 
in  her  face  which  has  robbed  it  of  much  of  its  freshness  and 
bloom  in  a  few  short  months,  and  then  see  if  you  can  find  it 
in  your  heart  to  condemn  her.  For  what  I  have  done,  punish 
me  as  you  think  proper.  I  could  not  act  otherwise,  and  your 
duty  is  open  to  you.  Only  spare  her  from  the  consequences." 
General  Grant  paced  the  room  for  several  moments  in  si- 
lence. It  was  not  an  easy  matter  to  act  decisively  just  then, 
for  he  occupied  a  very  difficult  position.  He  had  been  ap- 
pealed to  as  a  man,  for  mercy  towards  a  loyal  woman  in  deep 
affliction;  and  that  mercy  must  extend  to  her  through  one 
who  had  transgressed  the  law,  and  rendered  himself  liable 
to  punishment.  As  an  officer,  he  was  forced  to  hold  him  to 
account  for  his  actions.  Here,  the  stern  discipline  necessary 
for  the  success  of  a  large  army,  rendered  it  imperative  for  the 
Commander  to  be  exacting  and  rigid  when  enforcing  it. 
Amono;st  officers,  the  regulations  and  laws  should  be  observed 
most  scrupulously  for  the  sake  of  holding  influence  over  men ; 
and  now  one  of  them  a  highly  honored  and  trustworthy  man, 
was  before  him  under  charge  of  wrong,  and  making  frank 
confession  of  the  same.     What  could  he  do?     The  question 


224  A   STOEY   OF   THE   GEEAT   REBELLION. 

was  perplexing  in  the  extreme.  Finally  he  sat  down  and 
bowed  his  forehead  upon  one  hand  in  deep  thought.  When 
he  spoke  it  was  with  decision,  but  not  in  unkindness  or  anger. 

"  Captain  Wilfer,  I  believe  that  jou  have  rightly  represented 
this  matter  to  me,  and  I  am  sorry  to  be  obliged  to  act  harshly. 
You  must  leave  the  service.  I  will  not  have  you  tried,  but 
will  accept  your  resignation,  and  require  you  to  send  it  in  at 
once.  My  duty  as  Commander  of  the  forces  here,  compels  me 
to  one  straight  course,  and  this  is  the  lightest  punishment  I 
can  inflict  upon  you  for  what  you  have  done." 

The  young  man  turned  white  and  started  to  his  feet. 

"And  the  worst.  General,  if  you  intend  to  make  me  suffer 
in  feeling,  for  no  man  of  honor  can  be  thus  deprived  of  serving 
his  country  in  her  hour  of  need,  and  not  suffer  acutely ;  I 
accept  your  decision,  because  I  must,  but  it  is  a  hard  sentence. 
I  would  that  you  could  change  it  without  danger  of  compro- 
mising yourself  or  her.  Anything  would  be  better  than  to 
be  forced  to  leave  the  service." 

"I  cannot  change  it.  Make  out  your  resignation  as  soon 
as  possible  ;  and  if  you  should  ever  again  find  yourself  in  the 
service  of  your  country,  holding  an  honorable  and  responsible 
position,  be  more  carefid  in  what  you  do." 

With  this  he  dismissed  the  young  man,  who  went  out, 
looking  deeply  pained  but  pale  and  resolute. 

"  I  have  resolved  to  bear  anything  for  her  sake,  and  will  not 
shrink  even  from  this ; "  he  muttered.  "  But  it  is  hard — bitter !" 

The  afternoon  of  the  same  day,  brought  a  note  to  Miss 
Harmon  which  Mrs.  Noble  received  and  carried  to  her  as  she 
sat  in  her  own  room,  buried  in  the  depths  of  a  large  chair. 
She  took  it  languidly,  looking  almost  too  wan  and  weak  to 
break  the  seal.  When  she  did  so,  a  vivid  color  flashed 
instantly  to  her  cheeks. 

"General  Grant  desires  an  inter\'iew  with  Miss  Harmon. 
Send  word  by  the  bearer  when  it  will  be  agreeable  to  receive 
a  caU." 

"What  shall  I  do?"  she  asked,  handing  the  note  to  Helen. 


KIND   AND   CONSIDERATE.  225 

"I  am  afraid  something  is  wrong — he  has  found  out  something 
about  that  trip  which  may  give  Captain  Wilfcr  trouble,  pei"- 
haps.you,  too,  who  knows?" 

"  Let  him  come  at  once,  the  truth  is  better  than  suspense, 
and  I  do  not  fear  for  myself." 

"  Then  give  the  bearer  the  message  to  that  effect,  if  you 
think  best.     You  are  right ;  I  cannot  now  bear  suspense." 

The  General  was  at  the  hotel,  and  sauntered  over  before 
they  expected  him.  When  he  entered,  Astrea  was  sitting 
still  in  the  large  chair  which  had  been  drawn  into  the  parlor, 
and  lookmg  pale  and  disturbed.  He  advanced  to  her  and 
took  her  hand  kindly. 

"My  call  is  inopportune,  I  fear,  for  you  look  very  ill ;  but 
I  desire  simply  to  ask  you  one  question,  and  will  not  worry 
you  now  with  a  long  visit." 

"  I  am  at  your  service,  General  Grant." 
"And  somewhat  frightened,  I  think,"  he  said  smiling,  as  he 
took  the  seat  to  which  she  pointed.     "  There  is  no  need  of  be- 
ing so,  however.      I  only  want  you  to  tell  me  if  you  know  a 
Doctor  Gray,  and  if  he  has  any  reason  to  dislike  you." 

"  I  do  know  a  Doctor  Gray,  who  has  every  reason  to  dis- 
like me.  He  was  attending  physician  at  Paducah  in  one  of 
the  hospitals  while  I  was  there,  and  I  was  so  indignant  with 
his  way  of  managing  things,  as  to  express  myself  very  sharply. 
The  last  time  I  saw  him,  he  made  a  threat  to  revenge  liimself 
upon  me  for  some  truths  that  I  thought  it  my  duty  to  admin- 
ister to  him." 

"  What  is  his  character,  and  what  did  you  find  to  censure 
in  his  conduct?" 

Astrea  recounted  the  condition  in  which  she  had  found  the 
men,  and  his  mode  of  treatment,  with  some  of  the  conversa- 
tions which  had  passed  between  them. 

"That  will  do,"  he  said,  rising  and  extending  his  hand  in  a 

friendly  way.     "You  look  weary,  and  I  will  not  tax  your 

strength  longer.     It  is  bad  for  you  to  be  sick  while  so  many 

need  your  care ;  and  it  seems  that  those  persons  who  work  so 

15 


226  A    STORY    OF   THE   GEEAT  REBELLION. 

heartily  as  you  do  for  the  good  of  others,  ought  to  be  exempt 
from  suffering  themselves." 

"  Is  it  not  the  natural  result  of  our  sohcitude  for  others,  if 
our  sympathies  are  warm?"  she  asked;  but  the  shallow  at- 
tempt to  account  for  her  too  plainly  speaking  looks,  woke  only 
a  smile  of  compassion.  He  went  away  from  her,  feeling  glad 
that  he  had  not  taken  any  steps  that  could  add  to  her  distress. 

Doctor  Gray  at  this  time,  held  no  commission,  but  was  a 
contract  surgeon,  who  had  been  permitted  to  come  to  Corinth 
at  the  time  of  its  occupation  by  the  Federal  forces.  Seeing 
Astrea  there,  he  had  kept  aloof  from  her,  but  resolved  to 
watch  her  closely,  and  if  he  ever  had  an  opportunity,  to  be 
revenged  for  those  well  remembered  stings  at  Paducah. 

General  Grant  desiring  to  deal  justly  by  all  parties,  made 
every  investigation  in  his  power,  that  punishnaent  might  fall 
only  on  the  proper  persons ;  and  the  facts  which  came  to  light 
concerning  Doctor  Gray,  were  sufficient,  and  of  a  nature  to 
cause  him  to  be  placed  under  arrest  for  an  indefinite  period. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

A    HOME    OF   AFFLUENCE— ITS    BEAUTIES    AND    ITS 
BLEmSHES. 

The  village  of  Florence,  a  lovely  little  town  in  North  Ala- 
bama, is  situated  upon  the  banks  of  the  Tennessee  Eiver,  and 
boasts  about  two  thousand  inhabitants.  On  the  opposite  side 
of  the  river,  about  four  miles  distant,  is  the  town  of  Tuscum- 
bia,  almost  as  large,  and  widely  celebrated  for  the  beautiful 
spring  of  sparkling  water  which  bursts  from  the  base  of  a 
small  mountain  rising  above  it. 

Tuscumbia  had  been  the  early  home  of  Astrea  Harmon,  and 
her  great  wealth,  exceeding  beauty,  and  sweetness  of  disposi- 
tion, had  made  her  the  belle  and  idol  of  the  place.  Being  an 
only  child,  and  heiress  to  an  immense  estate,  it  is  not  to  be 
wondered  at,  if  fi'om  her  first  appearance  in  society  at  a  very 
early  age,  her  path  Avas  thronged  with  ardent  suitors,  whose 
earnest  endeavors  to  win  her  esteem,  rather  wearied  than 
pleased  her.  She  was  too  genuinely  pure  and  true  of  heart, 
to  take  pleasure  in  the  pain  which  she  was  forced  to  inflict  by 
repulsing  such  advances ;  and  too  confidingly  truthflil  herself, 
to  suspect  that  other  motives  than  those  of  devoted  affection 
could  bring  so  many  to  her  feet.  Modest  and  simple  in  her 
regards  for  self,  it  was  ever  a  matter  of  wonder  to  her  Avhy 
she  was  sought  and  preferred  above  others;  but  the  truth 
could  not  be  denied,  and  the  days  which  to  most  young  girls, 
would  have  been  full  of  pride  and  triumph,  brought  to  her 
much  of  pain  and  distress ;  for  while  she  gave  to  each  of  her 


228  A   STORY    OF   THE   GREAT   REBELLIOX. 

suitors  a  friendly  feeling  of  regard,  she  knew  well  that  no 
deeper  emotion  had  touched  her  heart,  and  she  could  love  none. 
One  year  like  this,  after  an  education  in  a  fashionable  board- 
ing-school in  New  York,  and  then  an  end  was  suddenly  put 
to  all  annoyances. 

Frederic  Passiver  returned  from  Europe  to  take  possession 
of  a  large  estate  left  him  by  his  father,  and  their  first  meeting 
had  given  rise  to  a  mutual  interest  which  resulted  in  a  hasty 
marriage.  Immediately  after  their  nuptials  they  started  upon 
a  long  European  tour,  during  which  time  a  magnificent  resi- 
dence was  erected  upon  an  elevated  site  about  three  miles  from 
Florence,  and  commanding  a  lovely  view  of  the  river  and  sur- 
rounding country.  To  this  house  they  came  after  a  year's 
absence,  and  located  themselves  permanently,  with  every  ap- 
parent means  within  their  reach,  for  a  supremely  happy  life. 
Being  the  theater  of  many  subsequent  exciting  scenes,  as  well 
as  the  home  of  our  heroine,  Passiver  Hall  deserves  description. 
The  main  entrance  fronted  the  Florence  road,  towering  tall 
and  stately  amid  the  green-  and  luxurious  foliage  of  venerable 
trees,  whose  boughs  waved  around  the  gleaming  white  pillars 
caressingly.  At  the  rear  of  the  building,  a  green  slope  swept 
to  the  water's  edge,  down  the  centre  of  which  a  flight  of  steps 
had  been  laid,  terminating  with  a  small  boat-house,  containing 
skiffs  and  canoes  which  the  young  bride  might  use  at  pleasure. 
Upon  the  east  side  of  the  Hall,  was  laid  a  most  beautiful 
garden,  combining  elegance  with  use,  and  yielding  fruits  and 
vegetables  as  richly  as  flowers.  From  the  west,  the  plantation, 
beginning  with  green  meadow-lands,  stretched  away  for  miles 
in  exquisite  and  luxuriant  loveliness,  terminating  with  long 
rows  of  negro  quarters,  which  in  themselves,  furnished  quite 
a  village-like  appearance.  The  young  planter  took  much 
credit  to  himself  for  this  last  touch  to  the  finest  estate  in  North 
Alabama.  It  was  such  a  delight  to  feast  his  eyes  upon  a 
domain  on  which  were  no  unsightly  blots.  He  wanted  no 
miserable  tumble-down  buildings  about  him,  which  could  mar 
the  beauty  of  an  otherwise  perfect  landscape.     This  was  not 


A   HOME   OF  AFFLUENCE.  229 

the  only  reason,  liowcver,  for  the  pains  Frederic  Passiver  had 
taken  in  the  erection  of  tliose  quarters.  He  was  a  proud,  am- 
bitious man,  and  desired  to  be  above  his  neighbors  in  every- 
thing-. His  plantation  being  the  finest,  and  worked  by  the 
laro-est  number  of  able-bodied  negroes,  must  necessarily  yield 
a  richer  harvest  of  gain  than  any  other,  and,  therefore,  more 
would  be  expected  of  him  as  a  leading  man,  universally  ac- 
knowledged as  the  most  enterprising  gentleman  in  the  country. 
He  was  not  one  of  that  class  who,  relying  upon  their  wealth 
and  position  for  absolute  power,  willingly  spend  their  lives  in 
indolence.  Energetic  by  nature,  and  more  ambitious  than  is 
usual  in  that  land,  where  the  warm  sunshine  seems  only  to 
nurture .  indolence,  his  course  was  an  entirely  original  one, 
promising  to  place  him  in  a  position  hitherto  unequaled  in 
every  respect. 

Frederic  Passiver  loved  power  as  a  miser  loves  money ;  and 
he  w^as  not  content  to  wield  it  singly  in  home  or  county.  Both 
must  come  under  his  undisputed  sway,  and  to  that  end  he 
began  his  life  at  Passiver  Hall,  fully  confident  of  eventual 
success.  This  man  was  neither  good  or  conscientious,  and  the 
principles  upon  which  he  based  all  his  actions,  were  selfish  in 
the  extreme.  In  general  objects,  he  worked  with  something 
of  a  diplomatist's  skill,  covering  deep  designs  with  a  frank, 
fair  seemingr,  which  could  not  fail  to  win  confidence  and  esteem. 
And  the  first  instance  of  this  trait  in  her  husband's  character, 
was  revealed  to  her  in  the  erection  of  the  quarters,  which  he 
professed  to  have  built  solely  to  please  his  wife,  whose  ambition 
tended  only  to  the  alleviation  of  the  hard  lot  of  her  people. 
She  looked  on  them  with  pitying  eyes,  as  Moses  regarded  the 
children  of  Israel  ffroanino;  in  bondag-e,  and  conceived  a  desire 
to  lift  them  up,  and  set  their  feet  in  "pleasant  places."  Seem- 
ing to  coincide  at  once  with  her  views,  and  to  enter  with 
benevolent  interest  into  all  her  plans,  he  had  made  the  promise 
on  her  first  suggestion,  and  worked  to  a  double  purpose.  One 
year  of  marriage  had  shown  to  each,  the  rashness  of  a  hasty 
step,  by  opening  their  eyes  to  a  wide  gulf  which  lay  between 


230  A   STORY   OF   THE    GREAT   REBELLION. 

them.  While  she  was  gentle,  loving  and  generous — there  was 
still  an  element  of  strength  in  her  nature  which  he  did  not 
like,  and  vowed  not  to  tolerate,  secretly  resolving  to  leave  no 
means  untried  which  might  bend  her  wholly  to  his  will  in  all 
things,  right  or  wrong.  In  Passiver  Hall,  his  power  should 
be  supreme,  but  he  had  the  Avisdom  to  accomplish  his  purposes 
by  no  rash  or  overt  actions.  Open  tyranny  at  the  outset 
would  have  destroyed  all  hope  of  sovereignty,  and  he  pre- 
ferred rather  to  bide  his  time  patiently  for  a  season,  looking 
to  no  distant  day  in  the  future,  when  he  might  reign  with  the 
freedom  of  a  prince.  On  the  other  hand,  the  young  wife  soon 
began  to  discern,  with  a  woman's  keen  penetrative  powers,  thoee 
traits  of  character  which  filled  her  with  sorrow  and  disajipoint- 
ment.  But  as  the  chosen  instrument  of  good  to  man,  she  hoped 
with  true  womanly  faith  to  bridge  that  wide,  unsightly  gulf  be- 
tween her  husband  and  herself,  with  a  love  that  should  prove 
his  salvation,  and  make  of  him  all  that  a  man  with  such  advan- 
tages, ought  to  be.  Hundreds  of  souls  looked  to  them  for  pro- 
tection. In  their  hands  rested  the  burthen  of  good  or  ill  to 
those  whom  fortune  had  given  them  as  slaves,  and  she  shrank 
appalled  from  the  greatness  of  this  responsibility,  when  she 
comprehended  the  ease  with  which  it  might  drag  them  down 
in  the  scale  of  being;.  On  the  evening;  after  their  arrival  at 
the  Hall,  when  she  had  been  thinking  about  it  imtil  her  bright 
face  was  clouded  with  trouble,  he  drew  her  to  a  large  window 
overlookino;  the  shining  river,  and  asked  to  know  the  cause  of 
her  unusual  gravity. 

"  I  was  thinking  of  the  commission  that  God  has  given  us,'* 
she  replied  without  the  slightest  change  in  her  sober  features. 

"Commission?  what  commission?" 

"Can  you  not  understand,  Frederic?  Remember  the  story 
of  the  just  and  unjust  steward,  and  the  disposition  they  made 
of  the  talents  which  the  Master  gave  them.  I  have  been  look- 
ing abroad  over  our  vast  possessions,  and  wondering  if  we 
shall  be  able  to  turn  our  Master's  talents  into  good  account,  so 
as  to  win  His  cheering  '  Well  done  thou  good  and  faithful  ser- 


OPPORTUNITIES   FOR   DOING   GOOD.  231 

vant,'  in  the  end.  Oh,  Frederic,  I  tremble  to  think  of  it — the 
charge  is  so  great.  I  could  find  it  in  my  heart  to  wish  for  an 
humbler,  less  responsible  position  than  ours,  for  I  do  not  feel  at 
ease,  or  confident  of  being  able  to  do  my  duty  wholly." 

"  You  will  try,  however,  and  it  is  better  to  hold  these  tal- 
ents in  your  own  keeping,  than  to  see  them  transferred  to 
others,  who  would  have  no  such  feelings,  and  make  no  eflTorts 
to  render  them  back  improved." 

"  Certainly ;  that  is  about  the  only  comfort  we  can  have  to 
sustain  us  under  such  a  burthen.  Our  people  might  be  in 
worse  hands,  and  our  wealth  put  to  baser  uses.  Oh,  Frederic, 
we  can  do  much — let  us  never  forget  how  much,  or  ignore  one 
single  opportunity  to  give  happiness  and  good  to  others.  Let 
us  try  to  elevate  our  servants,  and  make  them  better  and  hap- 
pier— as  well  as  the  poor  people  by  whom  we  are  surrounded." 

"  What  means  do  you  propose  to  employ  in  your  benevolent 
projects?     What  is  the  first  thing  to  be  done?" 

"The  first  thing?  Well,  let  me  see!  I  think  in  the  first 
place,  I  would  build  a  large  school-house  for  the  purpose  of 
educating  our  tenant's  children,  who  are  most  lamentably 
rgnorant,  and  send  North  for  one  of  those  stirring,  enero-etic 
N^ew  England  teachers  to  take  charge  of  it.  Of  course,  he 
)r  she  must  have  a  good  salary,  and  here  again,  we  find  a 
^ood  use  for  a  portion  of  our  talents,  in  affording  one  self- 
Jependent  person,  at  least,  a  comfortable  means  for  support. 
The  plantation  is  large,  and  will  furnish  ample  employment 
for  such  as  we  have ;  and  as  they  become  more  enlightened 
and  intelligent,  their  self-respect  and  ambition  will  increase. 
The  neat  walls  of  their  cottages  will  be  covered  with  vines — 
their  gardens  will  bloom  with  flowers,  and  their  children  will 
go  to  church  and  school  with  neat  apparel  and  happy  faces. 
Oh,  would  it  not  be  joy  to  look  upon  such  a  picture,  and  know 
that  we  had  been  the  instruments,  by  God's  grace,  of  such 
good  to  others !  I  can  easily  see  how  the  lives  of  the  rich 
might  be  perfect  lives,  if  they  would  only  put  their  possessions 
to  a  proper  use." 


232  A    STORY    OP   THE    GREAT   REBELLION. 

"But  you  reason  from  one  side  only,  and  do  not  consider 
that  you  do  more  evil  than  good,  by  this  large  order  of  be- 
nevolence. The  moment  you  stretch  out  your  hands  and  lift 
them  above  their  position,  by  even  one  degree,  you  teach 
them  to  forget  what  is  due  to  yourself  as  their  superior,  by 
obstinately  claiming  an  equal  footing.  It  will  never  do  to  let 
them  pass  a  certain  limit,  and  to  establish  such  a  school  here 
as  you  propose,  would  be  absolute  folly.  The  introduction  of 
a  northern  teacher,  would,  in  itself,  be  enough  to  plant  the 
seed  of  discord  amongst  us  so  deeply  it  coidd  never  be  rooted 
out.  Suppose  you  let  this  lie  over  for  the  present,  and  tell 
me  what  you  would  do  for  the  negroes." 

The  sweet  face  which  had  grown  very  bright  while  devising 
her  own  schemes,  became  anxious  and  troubled  while  he  was 
speaking.  But  now  the  shadows  lifted  again  when  he  touched 
a  subject  nearer  her  heart,  and  she  spoke  with  enthusiasm : 

"  O,  I  would  build  a  nice  church  for  them  near  the  quarters, 
and  hire  a  minister — a  really  good  man — to  preach  for  them. 
Of  course  the  old  patriarchs  of  the  plantation  should  have 
the  privilege  of  preaching  whenever  they  desired ;  but  it 
would  be  necessary  for  them  to  get  some  teaching  themselves, 
ere  they  could  impart  anything  of  great  value  to  others. 
And  now,  while  speaking  of  this,  why  cannot  we  resolve  to  do 
it?  This,  and  one  thinor  beside,  would  render  our  beo-innins: 
auspicious,  I  think.  I  have  reference  to  a  plan  that  was  sug- 
gested, to  my  mind  by  one  of  the  boys,  who  came  to  me  to- 
day and  asked  if  he  might  have  a  little  strip  of  ground  for 
a  garden  patch,  lying  just  in  the  rear  of  his  cabin.  If  a  small 
garden  was  attached  to  each  cabin,  it  would  afford  them  a 
great  deal  of  pleasure,  and  stimulate  them  to  pleasant  habits. 
I  promised,  if  you  had  no  objections,  to  have  the  gardens  laid 
out  for  them,  and  supply  them  with  seeds  for  vegetables  and 
flowers,  if  they  would  pledge  themselves  to  keep  them  and 
everything  about  them,  in  nice  order  and  cleanliness.  They 
have  an  inherent  love  for  the  beautiful,  and  an  inordinate 
desire  for  praise.     Combining  the  two,  we  might  turn  this  to 


THE  CLOVEN  FOOT  ArPEARIXG.  233 

good  account  in  more  ways  than  one.  Our  people  would  be 
neater  and  happier,  I  am  sure,  and  the  produce  that  these  gar- 
dens would  yield,  would  go  largely  towards  supporting  them. 
If  they  choose  to  sell  anything  from  them,  allow  them  to  do  so, 
and  make  such  a  disposition  of  the  money  thus  received  as 
best  pleases  them.  By  it  we  should  win  their  affection  and 
obedience,  causing  life  to  flow  through  harmonious  channels." 

Mr.  Passiver  looked  thoughtful,  and  did  not  answer  foi* 
some  time. 

"  I  see  no  reasonable  objection  to  such  a  plan,"  he  said  at 
length,  "  and  feel  disposed  to  try  it.  But  we  must  not  spoil 
our  people,  Eugenia." 

"  Spoil  them  with  simple  justice,  my  dear  husband !  Sure- 
ly, for  the  people  whose  whole  lives  are  spent  in  our  service, 
we  can  afford  to  do  this  much,  and  consider  it  no  great  con- 
cession of  our  rights." 

"  Still,  we  must  not  make  the  mistake  of  bribing  them  to 
do  what  we  can  and  ought  to  demand.  If  we  do,  incalcula- 
ble evil  may  spring  from  it,  and  they  will  give  us  no  peace. 
If  one  of  my  servants  should  dare  to  become  saucy  and  inso- 
lent, I  am  sure  I  should  kill  him." 

"Oh,  Frederic!" 

"  Yes,  I  would  do  it,  Eugenia.  Each  and  every  man,  wo- 
man and  child  under  my  control,  shall  obey  me  when  I  speak, 
instantly,  and  without  a  question.  I  prefer  to  be  kind,  and 
to  have  no  reason  for  enforcing  my  authority ;  but  the  black 
rascal  who  dares  to  give  me  trouble,  will  never  try  it  a  second 
time  if  I  know  myself.  Since  we  are  on  this  subject  I  will 
suggest  that  you  make  your  side  of  the  house  fully  understand 
what  to  expect.  From  what  I  have  been  able  to  judge  in 
the  little  I  have  seen  of  them,  you  have  been  too  lenient,  and 
allowed  them  to  take  too  many  liberties  with  you.  Now  that 
the  two  sets  are  brought  together,  the  sooner  they  are  taught 
their  places,  the  better  it  will  be  for  the  future  peace  and  har- 
mony of  our  life  at  Passiver  Hall." 

"Frederic,  not  one  of  my  servants  has  ever  been  saucy  or 


234  A   STORY   OF   THE    GEEAT  REBELLION. 

disrespectful,  and  they  love  me  devotedly.  Such  a  thing  as 
unkindaess  is  a  stranger  to  them,  and  I  pray  you  not  to  mis- 
construe their  actions,  and  deal  hardly  with  the  poor  creatures. 
Comparatively  speaking,  their's  have  been  very  happy  lives : 
but  I  have  had  hopes  of  making  them  happier  still.  Do  not 
allow  your  desire  for  power  to  come  between  me  and  my  hopes. 
It  could  only  be  productive  of  misery  to  all." 

"Do  all  the  good  you  can,  child,  but  teach  them  unhesita- 
ting obedience,  for  that  I  will  have,"  he  answered;  then  seeing 
that  they  were  on  the  verge  of  an  argument  which  ill  suited 
his  purposes,  he  hastened  to  change  the  subject. 

Many  bright  dreams  which  she  had  woven  and  cherished, 
soon  began  to  fade  away,  as  Mrs.  Passiver  started  in  the  new 
path  which  destiny  had  marked  out  for  her.  The  foregoing 
conversation  cast  the  first  chill  over  her  ardent  anticipations, 
and  was  followed  by  the  utter  destruction  of  one  great  hope, 
which  served  to  presage  to  her  heavy  heart,  all  the  gloom  that 
the  future  might  have  in  store  for  her.  After  tea  had  been 
served,  they  had  taken  a  long  stroll  upon  the  river's  bank,  and 
returned  just  in  time  for  evening  prayers  before  the  servants' 
bed-time.  As  usual,  Astrea  took  her  bible  from  the  little  stand 
placed  under  the  chandelier,  and  stretched  her  hand  for  the 
bell,  when  her  husband  caught  it  firmly. 

"I  think  you  had  better  dispense  with  this  useless  ceremony, 
my  dear.     Why  waste  your  time  in  such  a  foolish  manner?" 

"  Why,  Frederic,  they  have  never  known  anything  else  in 
their  lives,  and  would  miss  it  very  much.  Besides,  it  is  our 
duty  to  do  this.  Last  night  I  was  weary  with  travel,  and  the 
confusion  attendant  upon  our  arrival,  was  sufficient  excuse  for 
the  omission.  But  they  would  wonder  at  it  to-night,  dear, 
and  I  do  not  want  to  sever  this  strong  link  between  me  and 
my  faithful  people." 

"I  do  not  think  it  a  woman's  place  to  take  such  things  upon 
herself,"  he  remarked  dryly. 

"  Nor  is  it,  if  the  husband  and  master  will  himself  assume 
the  duty.     I  thought,  however,  that  it  might  be  repugnant  to 


OUT  UrON  A  SEA  OF  TROUBLE.  235 

you,  auJ  rather  than  give  It  up,  proposed  to  keep  in  the  same 
■way  as  if  no  change  had  been  made  in  their  circumstances  of 
hfe.     Do  you  pi-efer  to  reheve  me?" 

"  By  no  means,  for  I  intend  to  discard  it  aUogether,  not  wish- 
ino-  to  be  bored  with  such  nonsense.  Think  no  more  about  the 
matter.    You  will  have  plenty  to  occupy  your  time  without  it." 

"Oh,  husband,  do  not  ask  this!  I  cannot  give  it  up,"  she 
expostulated,  with  great  pain  shadowed  forth  on  every  feature. 

"•You  must." 

"Must!?' 

The  proud  blood  of  her  nature  flashed  instantly  up  in 
defiance  of  so  unreasonable  a  demand.  Willing  to  yield  in 
whatever  was  right  and  just,  she  was  not  so  tame  as  to  bear 
this  without  resentment,  which  she  showed  plainly  in  every 
line  and  curve  of  her  beautiful  form  and  face.  He  saw  at 
once  that  a  contest  of  will  was  mevitable,  and  resolved  to 
conquer. 

"Yes,  I  repeat  that  you  must,  Eugenia,"  in  a  deliberate, 
icy  tone. 

"  You  deal  hardly  with  me,  I  had  hoped  for  something  bet- 
ter at  your  hands,  when  you  yielded  to  my  request  and  built 
those  quarters.  Have  I  been  mistaken  in  supposing  that  you 
had  the  real  good  and  happiness  of  our  people  at  heart?" 

"  Does  it  consist  in  allowing  you  to  make  a  butt  of  me,  and 
wear  yourself  out  at  the  same  time,  by  every  night  going 
through  a  lot  of  munmiery  ?  No,  Eugenia,  I  will  be  master 
here,  and  make  them  respect  me.  It  is  not  my  pleasure  to  do 
what  you  proposed  to  take  upon  yourself — therefore  it  shall  not 
be  done  at  all.     Let  this  suffice,  and  end  the  discussion  forever." 

"Not  yet,  dear,  my  first  duty  is  to  you — my  next  to  them. 
But  if  an  unreasonable  whim  of  yours  comes  between  me  and 
what  is  required  of  me,  I  must  consider  myself  absolved  fi'om 
the  promise  of  obedience  to  you,  by  your  own  act,  and  do  my 
duty  without  your  sanction." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  will  gc  through  with  this 
folly  every  evening  in  spite  of  me?" 


236  A   STORY    OF   THE    GREAT   REBELLION, 

"Not  willingly,  Frederic.  If  you  force  me  to  it,  I  must 
choose  a  room  where  the  ceremony  will  not  disturb  you ;  but 
my  servants  must  not  think  their  mistress  changed,  and  care- 
less of  their  welfare." 

"  Then  listen  to  me :  I  will  relieve  your  conscience  by  trans- 
ferring every  house  servant  you  have,  to  the  field,  and  putting 
in  their  places  those  who  will  not  miss  your  over  anxious  care." 

"  Do  you  then  care  so  little  for  my  happiness  that  you  can 
take  such  a  step  and  feel  no  regret  for  the  pain  you  give  me? 
Surely  my  wishes  are  not  strange  or  new  to  you,  and  you 
know  how  hard  it  will  be  for  me  to  give  up  the  cherished 
plans  of  a  life-time.  I  have  looked  forward  to  the  day  when 
I  should  have  it  in  my  power  to  do  these  people  good,  with 
more  than  an  ordinary  interest,  and  it  will  be  terrible  to  have 
you  come  between  me  and  my  hopes.  Spare  me  this  grief, 
Frederic,  and  I  will  endeavor  to  be  as  good  and  obedient  a 
wife  as  a  man  can  wish.  You  want  power — you  shall  have  it ; 
but  when  I  yield  myself  to  your  will,  and  acknowledge  your 
right  to  command,  when  I  beg  of  you  what  I  might  claim  as  a 
right,  do  not  make  me  feel  myself  wronged  by  a  refusal.  1 
ask  this  of  you  as  a  favor — allow  me  to  keep  my  servants 
around  me,  and  resume  the  old  customs  of  home.  It  is  not 
much  to  grant,  when  it  can  cost  you  so  little — but  it  is  every- 
thino;  to  me !  " 

She  came  to  his  side  and  knelt  upon  an  ottoman,  bowing 
her  head  against  him  in  child-like  abandonment  of  entreaty. 
All  the  proud  resentment  had  faded  from  her  face,  and  left  it 
earnestly  pleading  and  soft.  Few  could  have  resisted  her 
then,  knowing  the  noble  motives  which  had  enabled  her  to 
forget  herself  and  strive  only  to  do  right  toward  both  master 
and  slaves.  But  he  cared  more  for  himself  and  his  power, 
than  her  happiness  and  their  good ;  and  there  was  not  a  pang 
of  reo-ret  in  his  heart  as  he  put  her  coldly  from  him,  and  rose 
deliberately  to  his  feet. 

"  It  is  folly  to  multiply  words  since  nothing  can  change  me. 
To-morrow  mornino;  I  will  order  the  transfer  of  servants  from 


CRUELTY   AND   HAKD-HEARTEDNESS.  237 

house  to  field,  and  we  will  begin  our  domestic  arrangcment: 
in  my  way,  if  you  please." 

He  did  not  look  back  as  he  strode  in  his  deliberate,  stately 
way  from  the  room,  and  saw  nothing,  therefore,  of  the  effect 
his  words  and  manner  produced.  Still  kneeling  upon  the  otto- 
man, she  laid  her  pale  cheek  against  the  crimson  of  the  cush- 
ioned chaii'  he  had  vacated,  and  gave  vent  to  one  long,  bitter 
moan  of  anguish. 

"So  soon!  so  soon!"  she  sobbed.  "Has  the  strife  began 
already,  and  must  I  never  hope  to  do  good  in  my  life,  save 
through  opposition?  Oh,  my  Father,  how  hardly  shall  I  be 
made  to  struggle  through  Hfe,  if  my  duty  to  thee  must  be 
performed  through  such  obstacles  as  my  husband's  -will !  Why 
may  I  not  have  his  interest,  his  co-operation  in  the  accomplish- 
ment of  thy  work?" 

When  he  returned  to  the  room  in  which  he  had  left  her,  she 
had  gone,  and,  guided  by  the  sound  of  the  piano,  he  followed 
to  the  drawing-room  where  she  sat  in  the  dim  light  striving 
to  sooth  her  deeply  stirred  emotions  by  music.  Very  sweet 
and  low  was  her  voice  as  she  sans; — sometimes  choked  and 
tremulous.  The  mellow  moonlight  streaming  over  the  floor 
failed  to  reach  the  point  where  she  sat,  but  he  could  dimly 
discern  the  outline  of  her  face  and  figure,  and  thought  he 
could  read  her  subjugation  in  their  expression  of  sadness. 

"  Guide  me  oh.  Thou  Great  Jehovah,"  came  again  and  again 
from  the  tremulous  lips,  full  of  earnest  lingering  sweetness ; 
but  he  attached  no  importance  to  the  words  and  did  not  see 
that  he  was  losing  that  which  he  sought  to  gain  most  deter- 
minedly. He  might  force  her  into  outward  signs  of  obedi- 
ence— cut  her  off  from  all  that  was  pleasant,  hopeful  or  life- 
giving.  But  he  could  not  bend  the  spirit  into  willing  subservi- 
ency, or  hold  the  pure  love  and  respect  of  the  woman  whose 
best  feelings  he  outraged  by  his  unscrupulous  assumption  of 
absolute  power.  He  overlooked  the  fact  that  the  true  way  to 
rule  a  woman,  is  through  her  love ;  and  he  had  yet  to  learn  that 
fear  could  not  tame  a  will  like  hers,  where  love  had  no  control. 


238  A    STORY    OF    THE    GREAT    REBELLIOX. 

Thus  life  began  for  our  heroine  very  inauspiciously,  each 
day  that  came  bringmg  over  the  fair  young  head  a  cloud 
heavier  and  darker  than  that  which  preceded  it.  Struggling 
and  strife  were  hers  from  the  beginning,  and  they  never  ceased. 
First  it  was  with  her  own  pride  and  willful  spirit,  that  she  might 
by  yielding  to  her  husband's  will,  win  him  to  more  of  tender^ 
ness  and  love.  Then  it  was  with  the  outward  circumstances 
of  their  own  unhappy  life,  that  strangers  might  not  see  the 
signs  of  the  o-rim  "skeleton  in  the  closet."  She  would  not 
allow  the  world  to  judge  him  harshly,  and  she  shrank  with  a 
natural  dread,  from  the  supposition  that  the  fault  rested  alone 
with  her.  Therefore  her  smiles  were  bright  and  her  tone  gay, 
when  friends  met  her — no  laugh  was  more  sweet — no  step  more 
buoyant  than  hers  in  their  midst ;  but  when  they  were  gone, 
and  the  necessity  no  longer  existed  for  acting  a  part,  the 
reaction  was  terrible.  Grief  and  disappointment  and  self- 
loathing  tormented  her  to  the  verge  of  madnes?.  It  was  not 
enough  that  all  her  hopes  of  a  good  and  useful  career  within 
the  limits  of  her  own  home,  were  blasted,  but  each  day  un- 
wrapped from  about  the  husband  of  her  choice,  a  portion  of 
that  rosy  cloud  with  which  love  invests  its  objects,  and  instead 
of  pure  marble,  revealed  to  her  aching  eyes,  clay  only ! 
Wearying  of  arts  and  strategems  to  accomplish  his  ends,  as 
he  saw  the  difficulty  of  deceiving  her  growing  greater  each 
day,  he  finally  threw  oiF  all  pretensions  to  diplomacy,  and 
appeared  himself,  in  all  his  glaring  deformity  of  character. 
It  was  only  in  the  presence  of  others  that  he  ever  strove  to 
appear  courteous  and  kind.  When  the  eyes  of  friends  or 
strangers  were  upon  him,  his  manner  was  perfection  itself, 
winning  admiration  from  all;  but  alone  with  her,  his  chief 
delight  lay  in  the  sharpest  cruelty  he  could  inflict,  no  other 
occupation  affording  him  half  the  amusement  as  that  of  tor- 
menting her. 

It  would  be  difficult  to  imagine  such  a  character  as  Frederic 
Passiver's,  without  the  aid  of  an  original  from  which  to  gleam 
the  peculiar  traits  which  set  him  apart  from  all  other  men. 


UNHOLY  AMBITION    AND    SELFISHNESS.  289 

The  centre  and  root  of  his  being  was  self,  and  to  selfish  ends 
he  bent  all  things  within  his  reach  without  scruple.  He  was 
proud  of  his  wife  because  she  was,  not  only  the  loveliest  wo- 
man in  the  country,  but  the  most  cultivated  and  intelligent. 
Furthermore  she  was  immensely  rich,  and  her  possessions 
added  to  his  own,  gave  him  the  precedence  over  older  and 
longer  established  men  of  wealth.  His  ambition  was  to  have 
everything  better  than  anybody  else,  and  having  the  advantage 
in  every  other  respect,  he  resolved  to  tame  the  proud  spirit  of 
his  beautiful  wife  until  she  had  not  will  or  wish,  save  throucfh 
him.  Had  he  truly  loved  her,  such  an  unworthy  purpose  must 
have  become  submerged  in  the  elevating  tenderness  of  that  love ; 
but  a  pure  sentiment  of  affection  did  not  belong  to  his  nature. 
He  studied  her  tastes  and  feelings  only  to  add  to  his  power 
for  giving  pain.  When  she  expressed  a  preference  for  a  book, 
he  coolly  disapproved  her  taste  and  required  that  she  should 
lay  it  aside  and  accept  one  which  his  close  observation  told 
him  was  devoid  of  interest.  Her  favorite  flowers  were  ban- 
ished from  the  vases  upon  her  tables,  and  the  music  she  loved 
openly  condemned.  All  that  could  minister  to  her  pleasure 
was  banished  without  one  regret,  while  a  keen  sense  of  enjoy- 
ment was  manifested  in  the  actions  which  distressed  her  most 
profoundly. 

Existence  under  such  circumstances,  would  soon  become  a 
curse  to  any  woman,  and  it  did  become  a  curse  to  her,  though 
she  clung  tenaciously  to  a  hope  for  change  in  the  future.  She 
strove  to  bear  with  patience  the  ills  of  her  disappointed  life — 
to  walk  meekly  through  the  thorny  paths  which  had  given 
promise  of  flowers  only,  and  make  no  complaint.  The  mag- 
nificence and  splendor  of  her  home,  mocked  her,  as  the  gilded 
wires  of  a  cage  might  mock  the  fluttering  bird  whose  wings 
beat  vainly  against  the  prison  bars ;  but  she  endeavored  not 
to  long  for  a  more  humble  lot,  believing  that  her  Father  had 
chosen  to  test  her  faithfulness,  and  willingness  to  bear  these 
tests  without  complaint.  The  falseness  of  the  hollow  life  she 
led,  was  the  sorest  trial,  and  most  perplexed  her  judgment. 


240  A   STOKY   OF  THE   GREAT   REBELLION. 

It  was  not  easy  for  so  pure  and  truthful  nature  as  hers,  to  ac- 
cept the  doctrine  of  "doing  evil  that  good  might  come,"  but 
it  was  forced  upon  her,  and  the  doors  of  escape  tightly  closed. 
Of  the  maay  ills  that  crowded  around  her  daily  path,  she 
chose  what  her  judgment  sanctioned  as  least,  and  hoped  on 
with  a  hope  and  faith  that  find  birth  only  in  the  hearts  of 
earnest  women. 

The  summer  flowers  had  faded,  and  the  first  glowing  tints 
of  autumn  touched  the  hills,  when  a  little  stranger  came  to 
Passiver  HaU.  The  young  mother  welcomed  it  with  great 
joy,  and  said  to  herself  with  returning  confidence : 

"He  may  learn  to  love  me  again  for  his  child's  sake." 

But  all  through  the  hours  of  her  ordeal,  his  feet  had  rest- 
lessly  paced  the  floor  above  her,  waiting  the  issue,  without 
once  coming  to  her  side,  to  sooth  and  comfort  her  with  a  word 
of  tenderness.  Ever  willing  to  put  the  best  construction  upon 
his  actions,  she  had  tried  to  cheat  herself  into  the  belief  that 
his  dread  of  seeing  her  suffer,  kept  him  from  her,  until  aU  was 
over,  and  no  father's  face  bowed  with  hers  over  her  daughter's 
tiny  features,  as  she  lay  in  her  arms.  Even  now,  she  forced 
a  smile  to  her  pale  lips  as  she  lifted  her  beautiful  eyes  to  the 
nurse's  face. 

"Leave  her  to  me,  nurse  dear,  and  please  go  for  baby's 
papa.  Poor  fellow — he  could  not  bear  to  come  near  me,  but 
now  he  will  not  find  cause  for  grief." 

"  How  devoted  she  is,"  commented  the  nurse  as  she  mounted 
the  stairs  in  obedience  to  her  mistress'  request.  "  But  I  must 
say  that  it  is  queer,  and  I  can't  understand  it ;  husbands  who 
love  their  wives,  don't  treat  them  in  this  way ;  and  she  is  such 
a  sweet,  pretty  creature,  too.     I  don't  understand  it." 

Mr.  Passiver  was  stiU  pacing  the  floor  when  she  tapped 
lio-htly  upon  the  door  for  admittance ;  her  opinion  changed 
immediately  when  she  saw  the  eager,  anxious  face  with  which 
he  rushed  to  meet  her. 

"AYell,  Mrs.  Elder,  what  news  have  you?" 

"  Excellent,  sir,  and  Mrs.  Passiver  bade  me  ask  you  to  come 


SOMETHING   WRONG.  241 

down  and  see  your  daughter;  she  is  as  bright  and  smiling  as 
a  May  morning,  and  looks  more  beautiful  than  ever." 

He  scarcely  waited  for  the  close  of  the  sentence,  before  he 
left  her  with  light  rapid  steps,  taking  his  way  toward  his 
wife's  chamber. 

"I  will  ring  when  you  are  wanted,  Mrs.  Elder,"  he  called 
from  the  foot  of  the  stairs,  and  she  smilingly  turned  to  the 
room  where  the  Doctor  sat  alone,  and  refreshing  himself  with 
an  excellent  breakfast. .  He  looked  up  with  a  rather  quizzical 
glance  as  she  approached  him. 

""Why  do  you  leave  our  patient?"  he  asked  curtly. 

"  jNIr.  Passiver  is  with  her,  and  will  ring  when  I  am  wanted." 

"Ah!  I  say,  nurse,  there's  something  wrong  here!  What 
is  it?  you  are  a  woman,  and  women  are  sharp-sighted." 

"I  think  you  are  mistaken,  sir.  I  imagined  so  too,  until  a 
few  moments  ago ;  but  if  you  had  only  seen  his  face  when  I 
told  him  that  she  had  sent  for  him,  and  how  he  sjjrang  down 
those  stairs,  you  would  change  your  mind,  as  I  did." 

"I  am  not  so  sure  of  that,"  he  muttered  bluntly.  "Be- 
tween you  and  me,  this  Passiver  is  a  queer  chicken,  and  I  can- 
not just  make  him  out.  I  will,  though,  some  day.  Now  let 
me  give  you  a  small  piece  of  advice,  will  you  ?  Keep  a  sharp 
watcli  on  that  fellow,  and  see  if  he  is  the  true  blue.  If  not, 
that  little  bird  of  a  wife  of  his  will  need  a  friend,  and  it  will 
go  hard  with  me  if  she  don't  find  one.  I  have  observed  her 
closely,  and  if  I  read  signs  aright,  that  child's  heart  is  no 
stranger  to  aching.  It  made  me  almost  forget  myself  when 
I  saw  the  eager,  intent  stri\'ing  to  catch  the  faint  sound  of  his 
steps  while  he  paced  the  floor  above  her.  There  is  something 
deeper  than  we  see  upon  the  surface,  and  I  am  curious  to  get 
at  the  bottom  of  it,  for  I  have  known  her  ever  since  she  was 
bom  almost,  and  am  sure  that  the  fault  does  not  lie  with  her 
if  she  is  not  happy." 

16 


CHAPTEE    XIX. 

SOME   OF   THE   WORKINGS   OF    THE  "PECULIAR  INSTI- 
TUTION." 

While  this  conversation  was  taking  place  in  the  breakfast 
room,  Mr.  Passiver  had  entered  the  chamber  where  Astrea 
lay,  and  turned  the  key  to  guard  against  intrusion.  A  pale, 
eager  face  was  lifted  from  the  pillow,  and  a  pair  of  dark, 
wishful  eyes  watched  intently  his  deliberate  motions.  Heed- 
ing neither,  he  walked  slowly  toward  the  fire  and  stood  with 
his  back  to  her.  The  white  cheek  sank  again  to  its  resting- 
place,  and  the  long  lashes  drooped  upon  it,  closing  tightly  over 
the  great  drops  of  anguish  that  had  rushed  to  her  eyes. 

After  a  wliile  the  dead  silence  was  broken  by  a  low,  sweet 
voice  from  the  bed. 

"Frederic." 

"Well?" 

"  Are  you  not  coming  to  speak  to  me  ?  " 

"What  shall  I  say?" 

There  was  a  struggle  for  mastery  over  a  great  spasm  of 
pain ;  then  the  voice,  more  subdued  and  tremulous,  answered 
as  gently  as  before. 

"Surely  your  heart  will  dictate  one  kind  word  for  the 
mother  of  your  child.  Your  little  daughter  lies  in  my  arms ; 
Frederic,  come  and  look  at  her." 

"Deuce  take  the  child! "  he  answered  angrily.  "I  want  no 
puling  girls." 


NEW   AND    BKIGIIT   HOPES    CRUSHED.  243 

This  silenced  her.  There  were  no  more  words,  but  a  smoth- 
ered sob  told  of  the  grief  that  no  effort  of  will  could  suppress. 
Another  great  hope  had  been  crushed  dead  at  one  blow,  and 
siie  mourned  over  it  with  exceeding  sorrow.  He  listened  to 
the  stifled  sounds  for  five  minutes  without  comment,  then 
spoke  sternly: 

"  Stop  crying,  Eugenia,  you  will  put  yourself  into  a  fever 
with  such  foolishness." 

"I  cannot  help  it,  Frederic." 

"You  must.  What  good  does  it  do  you?  The  strangest 
thing  in  this  world,  is  the  disposition  of  women  to  whimper 
over  everything  that  does  not  please  them." 

"There  is  no  especial  delight  in  tears  like  mine,  Frederic," 
with  a  weary,  hopeless  tone  of  voice.  "  I  have  longed  with  a 
womanly  longing  for  sympathy  and  tenderness  which  I  cannot 
find.  INIy  mother  is  in  her  grave,  and  my  dear  father  far 
away.  Brothers  and  sisters  I  have  never  had,  and  to  admit 
friends  to  my  heart,  would  only  show  the  void  there,  which 
I  have  striven  to  conceal.  Life  looks  very  blank  and  cheerless 
to  me  now,  for  all  hope  seems  at  an  end." 

"Don't  be  sentimental  as  well  as  foolish,"  he  muttered 
coarsely.  "  Of  all  hateful  things  on  earth,  it  is  a  soft,  senti- 
mental woman." 

She  answered  no  more,  and  he-  threw  himself  into  a  large 
chair  with  a  half  audible  oath.  Half  an  hour  passed  in  total 
silence,  sivino-  time  to  each  for  resumino;  the  habitual  demeanor 
observed  towards  each  other.  Then  he  rose  and  drew  the  cur- 
tains round  her  couch,  as  if  she  slept  and  he  would  guard  her 
slumbers,  while  she  lay  still,  with  her  white  face  nestled  closely 
against  the  pillow. 

He  saw  in  that  face  the  sickness  of  an  utter  despair,  but  it 
did  not  melt  him  to  one  relenting  emotion  of  tenderness. 
Fully  convinced  that  she  would  suffer  on  in  silence,  giving  no 
sign,  he  left  her  with  her  own  miserable  thoughts,  and  bore 
to  the  breakfast-room  where  the  Doctor  sat,  a  lying  face,  which 
wore  seemingly  proud  and  happy  smiles. 


244  A   STORT   OF   THE    GEEAT   REBELLION. 

"I  was  only  waiting  to  take  my  leave  of  your  wife,  Mr. 
Passiver,"  said  tlie  old  physician  as  the  young  man  grasped 
his  hand  with  warmth. 

"Then  you  do  not  mean  to  congratulate  me  at  all,"  laughed 
Mr.  Passiver. 

"  Xo,  because  you  have  kept  away  so  long,  it  appears  like 
affectation  now,  I  never  congratulate  young  fathers  who  are 
not  by  to  receive  their  treasures  first  from  my  hands." 

"  Oh,  you  are  too  hard  on  a  fellow,  Doctor;  can't  you  make 
some  allowance  for  a  man's  natural  shyness  on  such  occasions  ?  " 

The  old  man  laughed. 

"  I  cannot  imagine  you  bashful,  Passiver,  under  any  circum- 
stances whatever.  On  the  contrary,  I  think  you  have  more 
assurance  and  self-possession  than  any  young  man  I  ever  saw. 
However,  I  do  not  so  much  wonder  at  this  for  you  have  mixed 
so  largely  with  the  world,  it  would  be  something  of  a  wonder 
to  find  you  otherwise  than  self-possessed." 

Mr.  Passiver  smUed  blandly,  taking  the  Doctor's  remarks 
as  a  great  compHment.  He  had  always  prided  himself  upon 
that  especial  quality,  considering  it  one  of  the  strongest  ele- 
ments of  power. 

"  I  believe  you  are  right,"  he  said,  thrown  off  his  guard  in 
his  extreme  self-complacence.  "  It  has  always  been  a  noted 
trait  amongst  my  friends,  none  of  whom  can  ever  say  that 
they  saw  me  disconcerted  or  confused." 

"Aha!  "Well,  now,  su',  by  your  own  confession,  it  was 
not  bashfulness  which  deprived  you  of  my  congratulations. 
Come;  give  an  account  of  yourself.  What  kept  you  away 
so  long?" 

"  Sheer  cowardice,  I  presume,"  with  seeming  frankness. 
"I  own  that  I  cannot  bear  to  see  suffering  by  those  I  love." 

"  O,  fie !  that  looks  selfish.  You  don't  mean  to  say,  that  to 
spare  yourself  you  could  leave  your  young  wife  all  alone  in 
her  trouble,  without  a  word  of  sympathy." 

"I  am  forced  to  do  so,  though  I  see  that  it  does  not  raise 
me  in  your  good  estimation  to  make  such  an  acknowledg- 


UNPLEASANT   MEDITATIONS.  245 

Tncnt! "  answered  the  dissembler  In  the  same  frank  tone.  But 
his  ano-er  was  rising  fast,  and  his  fingers  tingled  to  hurl  the 
persistent  old  physician  from  the  room. 

"Have  a  glass  of  wine.  Doctor?"  he  asked  by  way  of  cov- 
^rlncr  his  displeasure.  "The  morning  Is  a  little  cool,  and  you 
have  a  long  ride  betbrQ  you." 

"  You  do  not  call  three  miltis  a  long  ride,  I  hope !  When  I 
was  a  young  man,  that  distance  would  have  appeared  a  mere 
step  to  me.  I  have  no  objection  to  the  wine,  though,  and 
must  really  take  my  leave." 

Mr.  Passiver  filled  and  handed  to  him  a  glass  of  sherry, 
then  escorted  him  to  Mrs.  Passiver's  door  and  left  him. 
Shortly  afterward,  tha  old  gentleman  came  out  and  entered 
the  carriage  which  stood  at  the  gate  ready  to  convey  him  back 
to  Florence.  His  yr-ung  host,  still  Intent  upon  keeping  up  the 
character  he  had  assumed,  Avalked  with  kim  down  to  the  vehicle. 

"  Good  morning,  sir,"  began  the  Doctor  deliberately,  as  he 
settled  himself  for  his  drive.  "I  hope  when  I  come  again  to 
find  wife  and  child  prospering.  But  you  must  take  care  of 
her,  Passiver,  and  don't  let  her  fret  about  anything.  To  my 
surprise  I  found  when  I  went  in  just  now.  Indications  of  un- 
easiness which  had  produced  fever.  She  is  delicate  and  can- 
Qot  bear  much,  I  fear." 

Mr.  Passiver  set  his  teeth  hard  to  suppress  an  oath,  while 
his  mental  conclusion  was : 

"The  old  meddler  suspects  something  and  Is  sounding  me. 
By  Jove,  I  wonder  if  he  could  have  got  anything  out  of  her ! 
I  was  a  fool  to  stay  away,  and  rouse  his  suspicions." 

The  moment  after  the  old  Doctor  found  himself  alone,  his 
face  settled  into  a  troubled  gravity  which  partook  largely  of 
indignation.  His  cogitations  i^an  altogether  upon  the  pair  he 
had  left  behind  him,  and  were  anything  but  pleasant,  for  he 
was  a  kind-hearted  man,  and  had  loved  Astrea  from  her  early 
childhood. 

"That  fellow  Is  deep,"  he  muttered  to  himself;  "deep  and 
wary.     I  am  much  mistaken  if  that  little  woman  does  not 


246  A    STORY    OF    THE   GREAT   REBELLION. 

already  repent  the  step  she  has  taken  in  becoming  his  wife ; 
but  she  is  steel-true,  and  will  bear  her  lot  like  a  Spartan.  Such 
women  are  deserving  of  a  better  fate  than  hers  promises  to  be, 
and  I  am  sorry,  sorry !  Oh,  dear !  The  old  story  of  mating 
the  vulture  with  a  dove !  But  in  this  case  the  vidture's  talon? 
are  hidden  under  the  softest  down.  I  must  watch  closely  to 
see  that  he  does  not  rend  her  to  death." 

Mr.  Passiver  returned  to  the  Hall,  and  sought  the  library, 
where  he  remained  some  time  in  ano;ry  thouo;ht.  His  first 
impulse  was  to  discharge  Doctor  Early,  and  employ  some  other 
physician.  It  was  galling  to  receive  a  man  into  his  house, 
who,  by  his  manner,  openly  exj)ressed  opinions  that  his  do- 
mestic aflPairs  were  not  all  right.  Yet  he  dared  not  take  so 
positive  a  step,  and  by  it,  confirm  the  suspicions  which  were 
so  apparent.  Eeflection  decided  him  to  let  him  come,  and 
play  out  his  part  to  the  end.  But  from  that  day  forth,  the 
good  old  Doctor  had  in  Frederic  Passiver  a  strong  and  bitter 
enemy,  who  was  dehberately  planning  to  crush  him. 

]\Irs.  Passiver's  recovery  was  very  slow,  and  it  was  many 
weeks  before  she  was  able  to  take  her  accustomed  place  at  the 
table,  or  occupy  her  little  chair  by  the  east  window,  where 
she  had  contracted  the  habit  of  taking  her  needle  and  favorite 
books  to  spend  the  long  hours  of  the  morning.  She  was  too 
proud,  and  too  earnestly  resolute  in  her  desire  to  do  her  duty, 
to  make  any  complaint,  and  the  silent  struggle  was  too  great 
to  allow  her  at  once  to  rise  above  its  weakening  influence. 
While  she  grieved  alone,  or  sadly  toyed  with  her  babe,  into 
whose  future  she  looked  with  distrust  and  dr&ad,  the  kind  old 
Doctor  and  nurse  discussed  her  troubles  in  secret,  striving  in 
vain,  though  with  the  best  motives,  to  gain  some  indisputable 
evidence  of  the  cruelty  which  they  asserted  was  killing  her! 
Finally,  however,  she  grew  stronger  and  broke  from  their 
control,  sending  them  both  away  with  gentle  firmness,  and  the 
declai'ation  that  she  no  longer  needed  their  care.  They  never 
knew  how  she  missed  them,  and  the  sympathy  Avhich  she 
instinctively  understood  and  accepted ;  nor  hoAv  fast  her  tears 


SUFFERING   IN   SILENCE.  247 

fell  when  they  disappeared  from  sight,  leaving  her  alone  with 
her  great  burthen  of  woe.  But  it  was  a  relief,  also,  to  be  freed 
from  their  watchful  regards,  while  her  resolution  remained 
firm  to  shield  her  husband  from  suspicions  of  unkindness.  It 
was  much  easier  to  bear  her  grief  alone  and  unwatched ; 
scrutiny  only  added  to  the  difficulties  of  her  trying  position. 

The  autumn  and  winter  months  passed  away  monotonously, 
varied  only  by  occasional  visitors.  Astrea  was  not  yet  strong 
enough  to  go  out,  had  she  desired  to  do  so ;  but  there  was 
that  in  her  heart  which  made  her  long  to  hide  herself  from 
the  world,  lest  it  should  guess  that  she  was  an  unhappy,  dis- 
appointed woman.  If  old  friends  came  about  her,  she  laughed 
and  jested  as  happily  as  when  her  place  was  in  their  midst ; 
and  if  they  noted  that  her  face  grew  more  infantine  in  its 
delicacy,  and  her  figure  slighter,  ill  health  was  a  sufficient 
explanation.  Very  few  ever  suspected  that  there  might  be 
another  cause.  Doctor  Early  came  to  her  oftener  than  any 
other.  He  had  a  large  country  practice,  and  always  found  it 
convenioot  to  call  in  passing,  to  see  how  "  baby  was  thriving." 
Mr.  Passiver  was  usually  absent,  either  at  Florence  or  riding 
about  the  plantation,  so  his  visits  were  usually  very  pleasant 
and  cosy.  The  young  lady  learned  to  look  for  his  coming 
with  eager  anticipation,  and  to  see  him  dej)art  with  regret. 
It  was  almost  like  association  with  a  parent,  he  was  so  kind 
and  fatherly  in  his  manner,  and  gave  her  such  wise  counsel  in 
the  general  duties  of  life.  He  w'as  too  prudent  to  make  a 
direct  appeal  to  her  against  the  false  step  wdiich  she  had  taken ; 
but  he  made  her  ponder  deeply,  upon  the  natural  result  of 
certain  actions,  and  by  this  means,  taught  her  many  truths  to 
which  she  had  been  blinded,  by  allowing  a  high  sense  of  one 
great  duty,  to  obscure  others  as  important. 

Outwardly,  the  intercourse  between  Mr.  Passiver  and  his 
family  physician,  was  of  the  most  amicable  nature.  Had  not 
the  tale-telling  features  of  the  young  wife  betrayed  what  she 
never  allowed  her  lips  to  utter,  even  the  good  old  Doctor  must 
have  been  deceived  by  the  man's  courteous  and  attentive  man- 


248  A   STOEY    OP   THE    GREAT  REBELLION. 

ner.  With  bis  family  and  servants,  he  appeared  uniformly- 
kind — with  his  neighbors,  genial  and  hospitable.  The  coun- 
try, for  miles  around,  came  under  his  influence  imperceptibly, 
and  he  was  fast  making  friends  everywhere.  Had  they  ana- 
lyzed his  actions,  not  one  of  them  could  have  referred  to  a  real 
kindness  received  at  his  hands;  and  no  man  could  have 
vouched  for  his  real  opinions,  either  in  politics  or  religion. 
The  man  was  too  deep  to  commit  himself  without  some  posi- 
tive advantage  could  be  gained  by  it,  and  trusted  to  one  of 
his  favorite  theories  of  the  power  of  one  mind  over  another, 
for  the  attainment  of  any  desired  object.  He  did  not  hint 
such  a  thought  to  others,  but  his  mental  resolve  was  to  go  to 
Congress  within  a  year  or  two.  And  his  ambition  was  for  a 
seat  in  the  Senate — not  the  House.  That  would  not  at  all 
suit  his  ambition.  Furthermore,  he  would  win  such  an  influ- 
ence by  his  diplomacy,  that  the  Legislature  should  choose  and 
elect  him  without  the  expenditure  of  a  dollar  by  which  ene- 
mies could  say  that  he  had  purchased  his  position.  He  would 
work  so  adroitly  to  his  ends,  they  should  not  even  ktfow  that 
he  desired  that  position,  but  consider  it  a  condescension  on  his 
part  to  represent  them  in  the  Congress  of  the  United  States. 
Once  there  he  would  rely  upon  the  ground  he  had  gained  at 
the  outset,  and  then,  by  a  judicious  use  of  his  money,  the  road 
to  the  White  House  might  be  easy  enough.  Perhaps — who 
could  tell  ? — at  thirty  he  might  be  a  United  States  Senator ; 
at  thirty-five,  President !  Thus  did  lofty  fancies  teem  in  the 
brain  of  our  young  nabob  as  he  cantered  over  his  fine  domain, 
or  sat  within  his  own  luxurious  room  with  a  cigar  between  his 
lips.  As  the  spring  advanced,  Mrs.  Passiver's  health  became 
visibly  worse,  and  Doctor  Early  became  alarmed. 

"You  must  go  out  more,"  he  said  to  her  in  expostulation. 
"I  cannot  hope  to  bring  the  roses  to  your  cheeks  if  you  will 
persist  in  making  a  nun  of  yourself." 

"What  shall  I  do?" 

"  Get  a  spanking  little  horse  and  take  a  long  ride  over  the 
plantation  every  morning.     Don't  you  like  to  ride?" 


DOMESTIC   DISCORD   AGAIN.  249 

"  Very  much — or  I  used  to  like  it;  I  would  not  care  to  lea\  c 
baby  so  long  though,  now." 

"  Nonsense.  Nettie  can  care  for  Miss  Passiver  quite  as  well 
as  you.  If  she  don't,  Miss  Baby  will  one  day  be  without  any 
mother  at  all." 

"Do  you  mean  what  you  say,  Doctor?" 

"  Most  assuredly,  my  dear  madame,  it  is  your  duty  to  take 
care  of  your  health.     Let  me  beg  of  you  to  follow  my  advice." 

"I  will." 

But  there  was  no  interest  or  alarm  in  her  tones,  she  looked 
quiet  and  passive  while  he  planned  her  daily  routine  for  the 
future,  and  he  thought  regretfully: 

"  She  would  rather  die  than  live,  poor  little  soul ! '' 

Old  interests  became  strong,  however,  when  she  once  more 
took  up  an  active  line  of  duty.  The  fi'esh  air  and  the  rapid 
gait  of  her  spirited  little  pony,  sent  the  blood  coursing  through 
her  veins  with  warmth  and  energy,  rousing  her  from  the  dull, 
morbid  state  into  which  she  had  fallen,  and  giving  place  once 
more  to  the  strong,  willful  spirit  which  had  never  brooked  con- 
trol until  the  hands  of  power,  and  a  mistaken  sense  of  duty, 
had  crushed  it.  Then  it  Ava?,  the  leaven  of  Doctor  Early's 
teachings  began  to  work,  and  by  the  time  summer  came,  she 
was  a  stronger,  firmer  and  wiser  woman. 

The  chann-e  was  not  sudden  or  startlinjo".  It  came  o-radu- 
ally,  and  did  not  serve  to  create  one  uneasy  thought,  mitil  one 
evenino"  in  midsummer,  when  her  outraged  sense  of  riirht  dc- 
stroyed  the  usual  tact  she  had  endeavored  to  employ,  and 
brought  them  face  to  face  once  more  on  contested  g-round. 

She  had  ridden  down  to  the  quarters  to  see  a  girl  whom  the 
nurse  had  reported  ill,  and  came  back  filled  with  righteous  in- 
dignation. Mr.  Passiver  lounged,  in  a  bamboo  chair  on  the 
veranda,  idly  glancing  c\^i  n  number  of  New  York  papers. 
He  looked  up  with  astOxilsLrncnt,  &3  her  crimson  features  ap- 
peared above  him. 

"Frederic,"  she  bkj./fl'^  r.tnid'y,  "do  you  know  what  kind 
of  an  overseer  you  h  ^r  <if  fos  plantation?" 


250  A   STORY   OF   THE   GREAT  REBELLION. 

"Perfectly  well." 

"  And  do  you  sanction  his  cruel  treatment  of  your  people  ?  " 

"I  do." 

"  Monstrous !  You  cannot  mean  to  say  that  he  has  your 
authority  to  beat  old  men  into  their  graves,  and  to  kill  young 
girls  outright." 

"Of  course  not,  and  he  does  no  such  things.  A  man  will 
not  deliberately  throw  away  a  thousand  dollars ;  but  at  the 
same  time,  it  is  necessary  for  the  welfare  of  the  whole  tribe, 
that  they  should  be  kept  in  order,  and  you  cannot  do  that 
without  the  free  use  of  the  lash." 

Astrea  groaned. 

"Oh,  hearts  of  stone!  Oh,  black  and  bitter  curse  upon 
the  fairest  of  nations." 

"  What  is  the  matter  now  ?  Have  you  taken  leave  of  your 
wits?" 

"No,  I  wish  I  had!" 

"What  the  deuce  do  you  mean,  then?" 

"This — it  is  fearful,  unbearable  to  see  human  beings  mur- 
dered under  our  very  eyes,  and  have  no  power  to  save  them! 
To-day  Nettie  informed  me  that  one  of  my  girls  was  sick,  and 
begged  to  see  me ;  but  I  had  no  thought  when  I  started  out 
to  visit  her  cabin,  what  I  should  find ! " 

"Well,  what  did  you  find?"  he  sneered,  as  she  paused  in 
her  excitement. 

"  I  found  one  of  my  best  and  most  faithful  servants  dying 
from_  the  effects  of  a  most  brutal  treatment — a  young  girl 
whose  sense  of  right  was  too  pure  and  strong  to  allow  her  to 
tolerate  the  advances  of  a  vicious  white  man,  and  whose  faith- 
ful adherence  to  the  principles  taught  her,  has  brought  her  to 
her  death!  I  have  heard  the  whole  story.  She  has  been 
married  the  last  six  months,  to  Rufus,  one  of  my  boys,  and 
when  Ormand  insulted  Kate,  the  loyal  fellow  knocked  him 
down,  as  he  richly  deserved.  What  was  the  result?  Rufus 
has  ever  since,  been  tied  up  by  the  thumbs  in  the  direst  agony, 
while  Kate  was  beaten  until  the  punishment  brought  on  pre- 


FRESH   INDIGNATION  AND  DEFIANCE.  251 

mature  labor.  She  lived  to  see  me  and  to  fondle  my  hand.< 
like  some  faithful  animal,  then  close  her  eyes  blessing  me! 
Oh,  she  is  dead,  my  poor  Kate,  and  I  have  remained  here  day 
after  day,  and  week  after  week,  in  ignorance  of  the  woe  to 
Avhich  my  people  were  reduced!  I  have  been  blind  while 
their  eyes  saw  rivers  of  blood — deaf  while  their  wails  ascended 
to  God,  pleading  for  the  help  I  did  not  give  them !  And  they 
love  me  still — they  trust  me  still — they  can  die  with  my  name 
upon  their  lips !  Merciful  Father,  the  thought  will  drive  me 
mad!" 

Mr.  Passiver  seized  her  in  his  arras  as  she  paced  excitedly 
up  and  down  the  veranda,  and  forced  her  into  a  chair. 

"  Sit  still  and  calm  yourself." 

'•I  will  not,"  said  she,  breaking  away  from  him.  "This 
has  gone  on  too  long,  and  1  must  put  a  stop  to  it.  Oh,  to 
think  that  I  should  have  been  tame  and  passive  all  these  long 
months,  thinking  only  of  my  duty  to  you,  while  you  were 
killing  my  people !  I  allowed  you  to  banish  them  from  the 
house,  and  to  substitute  your  own — to  break  up  every  cher- 
ished custom  which  had  formed  a  link  of  unity  between  us. 
At  night  and  morning  I  bore  a  heart-ache  without  complaint, 
thinking  of  how  they  would  miss  me,  because  I  considered 
peace  with  you,  a  duty  above  that  which  I  OAved  them,  and  I 
thought  some  time  to  win  you  to  better  feelings.  I  laugh  at 
my  folly  now,  and  hate  myself  for  being  made  your  dupe. 
You  have  outraged  every  feeling  that  is  noblest  and  best  in 
my  nature,  and  thereby  absolved  me  from  my  vows  of  obe- 
dience. Henceforth,  I  do  my  duty  to  others  in  spite  of  you, 
and  nothing  but  absolute  force  can  curb  my  actions." 

"We  shall  see,"  he  answered  coolly.  " I  may  teach  you 
that  you  have,  as  yet,  only  seen  the  shadow  of  my  power. 
It  Avould  not  please  me  to  use  force  Avith  my  wife,  and  attract 
the  attention  of  other  people ;  but  it  will  please  me  to  tame 
her,  and,  by  the  Lord,  I  intend  to  do  it." 

"  You  may  kill  me,  perhaps ;  conquer  me  you  never  will. 
The  time  for  submission,  or  even  tolerance  is  past." 


252  A    STORY    OF   THE    GREAT   REBELLION. 

"  You  think  so,  but  you  will  change  your  mind  before  I 
have  done  with  you,"  saying  which,  he  threw  down  his  paper 
and  walked  out  to  the  river.  There  he  cast  loose  a  skiff,  and 
jumping  into  it,  roAved  swiftly  down  the  stream.  He  did  not 
return  for  some  time,  and  Astrea  had  regained  her  usual 
calmness,  though  a  resolute  expression  was  about  her  mouth 
which  had  lono;  been  a  stranger  to  it. 

Neither  spoke  as  they  sat  at  the  table  sipping  their  tea,  and 
no  one  would  have  guessed  from  his  deliberate,  nonchalant 
manner,  that  anything  of  an  unusual  nature  had  occurred  to 
disturb  him.  To  speak  the  truth,  he  enjoyed  the  prosjjcct  of 
a  more  stirring  life,  for  the  tame  monotony  of  the  last  six 
months  had  become  excessively  wearisome.  He  was  begin- 
ning to  long  for  a  change,  when  tliis  scene  roused  him  with 
the  promise  of  a  rich,  spicy  harvest,  and  his  first  step  was 
calculated  to  stir  the  trohbled  waters  to  a  perfect  fury  of  dis- 
cord. Somethinsc  in  his  face  must  have  sugorested  the  truth 
to  Astrea,  who  detained  him  as  he  was  about  to  rise  fi'om  the 
table.     The  servants  had  all  been  dismissed  from  the  room. 

"  Stay,  Mr.  Passiver.  AVill  you  have  the  kindness  to  tell 
me  where  you  have  been  for  the  last  two  hours?" 

"Certamly,  my  dear;  I  was  down  at  the  quarters." 

"^Yhat  were  you  doing  there?" 

"Making  some  investigations." 

"Of  what  nature?" 

"I  was  curious  to  know  who  had  told  you  the  fine  story 
with  which  you  entertained  me  this  afternoon." 

"I  presume  you  found  out?" 

"  Yes.  One  of  your  old  men — called  Uncle  Jacob  by  your- 
self, Jake  by  the  other  negroes — gave  a  graphic  account  of 
the  scene  between  Kate,  Eufus  and  the  overseer,  to  Xettic, 
your  nurse,  whom  he  met  somewhere  about  the  plantation. 
Of  course  he  designed  that  she  should  tell  you,  and  you  know 
what  followed." 

"From  whom  did  you  learn  all  this?" 

*' Jacob,  himself,  who  confessed  it  with  a  degree  of  insolence 


BRUTALITY  AND   FIENDISHNESS.  253 

uncqualcd  on  any  plantation  in  Alabama.  I  ordered  liirn  tied 
up  and  thrashed  within  an  inch  of  his  life." 

"  And  was  it  done  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  I  remained  to  see  that  my  commands  were  obeyed, 
before  I  came  home." 

Here  the  self-control  which  she  had  maintained  through  the 
dialo'Tue,  gave  way,  and  she  rose  quivering  with  passion. 

"  Frederic  Passiver,  are  you  a  fiend  in  human  shape,  that 
you  can  thus  revel  in  cruelty  ?  Do  you  wish  to  make  me  hate 
you  by  this  despicable  conduct?  If  not,  beware,  for  I  can- 
not endure  this  long." 

He  sat  balancing  his  spoon  upon  the  edge  of  his  cup. 

"I  don't  know  that  it  makes  much  difference  whether  you 
love  or  hate  me,  since  I  am  your  master  all  the  same.  Your 
bible  should  teach  you  that  a  woman  has  no  positive  individ- 
uality, except  what  her  husband  makes  for  her." 

"The  bible  teaches  no  one-sided  theories  of  right;  and  I 
deny  that  you  are  my  master.  Make  yourself  worthy  of  my 
love — my  superior  in  anything,  and  I  will  gladly  own  your 
power!  but  by  such  actions  as  these,  you  sink  yourself  to  a 
level  with  barbarians,  and  it  is  my  duty  to  stand  betAveen  you 
and  your  miserable  victims.  How  many  more  do  you  mean 
to  murder  in  cold  blood?  Last  week  old  Roger  was  beaten 
until  he  fell  ill  and  died — a  man  of  seventy  years,  whose  bent 
form  and  white  hairs  should  have  saved  him  from  cruelty. 
Now  I  suppose  Jacob  must  follow,  and  a  little  city  of  mur- 
dered dead  will  rise  up  to  reproach  us!  Mark  my  words, 
Frederic — sooner  or  later,  retribution  must  come.  Not  long 
can  God  remain  silent  and  deaf  to  the  cries  of  his  children, 
and  the  day  will  come  when  he  will  demand  blood  for  blood." 

"Where  are  you  going?" 

"To  the  quarters." 

"What  for?" 

"To  see  how  much  injury  you  have  done  to  old  Jacob." 

"  And  sow  deeper  discord  among  the  others.  I  forbid  such 
a  step.    When  a  wife  thus  publicly  sets  herself  up  against  her 


254  A    STORY   OF   THE   GEEAT   REBELLION. 

husband,  the  result  must  be  disastrous  to  them  and  their  mter- 
ests.     Let  them  alone,  if  you  would  not  make  matters  worse." 

"  That  would  be  difficult,  for  they  could  scarcely  be  more 
dreadful  than  they  are ;  and  to  sit  still  while  such  things  are 
going  on,  is  utterly  impossible.  No,  if  there  must  be  a  strug- 
gle between  us,  let  it  come,  and  God  defend  the  right.  Bet- 
ter to  die  in  a  strife  for  His  children's  weal,  than  to  wear  out 
my  life  under  a  stony-hearted  man's  tyranny.  The  hope  for 
happiness  died  within  me  long  ago,  and  I  have  resolved  to  fill 
the  void,  if  possible,  by  a  faithful  performance  of  the  duties 
which  you  have  heretofore  forced  me  to  ignore." 

He  laughed  mockingly. 

"Eide  your  high  horse,  my  peerless  wife,  but  take  care  that 
it  does  not  break  your  neck." 

She  stepped  into  her  own  room  without  reply,  intending  to 
get  a  hat  and  shawl,  when  he  closed  the  door  and  turned  the 
key  upon  her,  laughing  maliciously,  as  he  put  it  into  his  pocket 
and  walked  away. 

Now,  indeed,  the  struggle  between  the  two  strong  natures 
had  commenced,  each  resolved  to  gain  the  victory.  One  was 
good — the  other  was  evil — one  trusted  in  God — the  other  in 
his  own  strength. 

We  shaU  see  the  result  by  and  by. 


CHAPTEK    XX. 

MORE    DETAILS    OF    LIFE    AT    PASSIVER    HALL. 

Silence,  deep  and  profound,  brooded  over  Passiver  Hall. 
The  young  master,  glorying  in  lils  own  arbitrary  power,  sat 
for  hours  in  his  luxurious  bamboo  chair  upon  the  veranda, 
dreaming  ambitious  dreams,  while  the  stars  came  out  one  by 
one  until  the  sky  was  studded,  as  with  millions  of  sparkling 
gems.  Then  the  moon  rose  large  and  bright,  over  the  moun- 
tain in  the  distance,  and  was  reflected  in  tlie  river.  The  scene 
was  very  beautiful,  and  he  enjoyed  it — enjoyed  it  with  the 
more  zest,  as  he  thought  of  the  woman  he  had  made  a  pris- 
oner within  her  own  room,  because  she  had  dared  to  defy  him. 

Several  times  he  had  crept  to  her  door  to  listen  if  any 
sounds  might  betray  distress  or  anger,  but  all  was  silent  as 
death  within.  Of  course  she  had  been  obliged  to  yield,  and 
was  crying  her  eyes  out  with  spitefid  resentment,  though  she 
would  not  let  him  hear  her.  But  never  mind.  He  would  let 
her  alone,  and  keep  her  there,  until  she  was  glad  to  come  and 
humbly  crave  his  pardon  for  opposing  him.  With  all  her 
boasted  will,  she  could  not  hold  out  very  long  against  him ;  so 
he  was  content  to  bide  his  time  waitino;  for  the  hours  of  her 
humility  and  his  triumph.  Once  Nettie  approached  her  door 
with  little  Lillian,  intending  to  put  her  in  her  crib ;  but  he 
checked  her  with  a  finger  on  his  lips. 

"CaiTy  the  child  up  stairs,  Nettie;  your  mistress  is  not 
well,  and  must  not  be  disturbed  to-night  on  any  account.  See 
that  you  keep  her  quiet,  too,  and  don't  let  her  cry." 


256  A    STORY   OF   THE    GREAT  REBELLION. 

That  was  early  in  the  evening,  and  the  girl  obeyed  with  ill- 
concealed  dislike.  She  did  not  believe  one  word  of  what  her 
master  said,  and  rightly  guessed  that  he  was  "  up  to  sumthin' 
devilish,  shure."  But  she  knew  too  well  what  it  would  cost 
her  to  allow  him  to  hear  her  rautterings,  and  she  proceeded 
up  stairs  with  a  cat-like  tread,  where  she  sat  for  a  long  time 
pondering  her  master's  reasons  for  what  seemed  so  strange  to 
her.  Like  most  negroes,  Nettie  was  fond  of  sleep,  and  soon 
gave  herself  up  to  the  fascinating  sweetness  of  a  nap,  which 
lasted  until  a  light  touch  upon  her  arm  woke  her  with  a  start. 
Mrs.  Passiver  stood  at  her  side,  holding  a  small  lamp. 

"Is  you  better,  missis?"  she  asked,  rubbing  her  eyes. 

"Better?     I  have  not  been  ill.     Can  I  trust  you,  Nettie?" 

"  'Deed  you  can.  Miss  'Genia.  Only  jes'  try  me,  an'  you'll 
see." 

"I  wOl.  Do  you  see  this?  It  is  a  wax  impression  of  the 
lock  upon  my  chamber  door.  I  want  you  to  go  to  Florence 
to-morrow,  and  have  an  extra  key  made  for  me.  Keep  that 
key  in  your  pocket,  and  whenever  your  master  takes  it  into 
his  head  to  tell  you  I  am  ill,  rest  assured  that  I  shall  need 
your  assistance.  I  depend*  upon  you  to  take  care  of  Lily  at 
such  times,  my  good  girl,  and  when  you  know  she  is  asleep, 
slip  round  through  the  picture-gallery  to  my  boudoir,  and 
open  the  door  that  communicates  with  my  bed-chamber. 
When  that  is  done,  go  back  the  same  way  you  came,  to  Lily, 
and  whatever  happens,  say  nothing  to  any  body.  Oh,  Nettie, 
Nettie,  this  breaks  my  heart,  but  there  is  no  help,  no  help  for 
me!" 

The  girl's  eyes  glistened  as  her  young  mistress  leaned 
heavily  upon  her  shoulder  for  support.  She  took  one  fair 
little  hand  in  her  own  and  kissed  it. 

"  Trust  me,  missis,  do  trust  me ;  I'd  die  for  you  an'  little 
Miss  Lily." 

"  I  believe  you  would,  good  girl,  and  I  intend  to  trust  you. 
Now  keep  perfectly  quiet,  and  take  care  of  my  child.  I  am 
going  down  to  the  quarters  to  see  Uncle  Jacob." 


TROUBLE  AT  THE  NEGRO  QUARTERS.        ZDl 

"Oh,  Mids  'Gcnla,  if  master  should  find  it  out!" 

"Never  mind  if  he  does;  he  will  not  dare  to  hurt  me." 

Astrea  bent  fondly  over  the  sleeping  babe  and  kissed  the 
rosy  cheek,  then  stole  with  a  noiseless  tread  from  the  room. 
Trembling  with  alarm,  Nettie  went  to  the  window  and  listened. 
Mr.  Passiver  was  still  upon  the  veranda,  where  she  could  see 
tlie  fiery  glow  of  his  cigar,  quite  unconscious  of  what  was  going 
on  within.  From  the  opposite  window,  she  could  command  a 
full  view  of  the  river,  and  saw  her  young  mistress  stepping  into 
a  canoe  as  she  drew  aside  the  curtain.  One  silent  push  sent 
the  light  thing  far  out  into  the  stream,  and  in  a  few  moments 
a  sharp  bend  in  the  river  hid  her  from  sight.  Realizing  that 
she  had  seen  her  master  outwitted,  the  girl  became  half  frantic 
with  delight,  and  skipped  like  a  wild  thing  over  the  carpet. 

"Thar  he  lies — puflSn'  away  at  that  roll  of  tobaccer,  an' 
chucklin'  in  hisself  about  havin'  her  fast  in  her  own  room,  an' 
she's  done  gone  spite  of  him.  O,  glory !  I  likea  it.  I  guess 
I  knows  now  what  he's  up  to !  Can't  fool  this  chile !  High ! 
it  takes  Miss  'Genia  to  match  sich  smart  uns ! " 

Nettie's  delight,  though  demonstrative,  was  held  within  the 
limits  of  prudence.  She  took  good  care  not  to  make  any 
noise,  and  after  a  few  more  antics,  settled  herself  down  again 
beside  the  child,  and  in  a  short  time,  was  once  more  fast  asleep. 

Meantime  Mrs.  Passiver  paddled  her  little  canoe  down  the 
river  until  she  came  to  the  landing  opposite  the  quarters.  Late 
visits  there  had  rendered  her  familiar  with  the  locality  of  Uncle 
Jacob's  cabin,  and  she  proceeded  to  it  at  once.  A  faint  light 
within,  and  sounds  of  distress  from  some  one  in  deep  pain,  indi- 
cated that  the  inmates  were  not  asleep,  and  she  tapped  upon 
the  door  softly. 

"  Good  Lord,  is  dat  you,  missis  ?  " 

The  old  woman  who  opened  the  door  started  back  upon  see- 
ing who  the  unusual  visitor  was. 

"Yes,  Aunt  Judy;  I  have  come  to  see  Uncle  Jacob;  how 
is  he?" 

"  Mos'  done  fur,  missis,  mos'  done  fur !  but  dat  don't  make 
17 


258  A   STORY   OF   THE   GREAT   REBELLION. 

no  difference.  Uncle  Jake  'd  mos'  libed  long  enuff  anyhow, 
an'  de  good  Lord  meant  soon  to  take  him  home." 

Astrea  knelt  down  by  the  old  man,  and  leaning  her  head 
against  the  rude  bedstead,  sobbed  convulsively. 

"  Uncle  Jacob,  I  did  not  know  it  could  come  to  this,"  she 
moaned  in  broken  tones.  "  Had  I  dreamed  of  such  a  thing,  I 
would  have  died  sooner  than  subject  you  to  it;  and  it  will 
break  my  heart  to  think  that  your  faithful  love  for  me,  and  for 
those  around  you,  should  meet  with  such  a  reward,  I  did  not 
know,  oh,  I  did  not  know  what  I  was  doing! " 

"We  all  knows  dat,  missis.  Many  a  time  when  de  young 
folks  said  Miss  'Genia  had  done  forgot  'em,  my  ole  'oman  an' 
me  said  missis  hadn't  done  no  sich  ting;  we  know'd  dat  it 
wasn't  you  fault — we  seed  whose  fault  it  was  all  de  time. 
Don't  cry,  missis ;  it  don't  make  no  difference,  'cause  ole  Jake 
wants  to  go  home." 

Here  Aunt  Judy  sat  down  upon  the  floor,  and  began  to  rock 
herself  disconsolately  to  and  fro,  groaning  with  each  movement 
of  her  poor  old  body. 

"Oh,  Lordy!  I  nebber  t' ought  de  dark  days  'd  come  while 
our  young  missis  libed.  We  nebber  use'ter  see  trouble  an' 
we  was  sure  we'd  die  in  de  sunshine.  Oh,  Lordy,  oh,  Lordy! 
I  wish  de  good  God  'ud  take  me  wid  him.  I  don't  want  to 
lib  when  my  ole  mar's  gone ! " 

"Stop  dat,  ole  'or  in,"  came  from  Uncle  Jake  as  he  turned 
over  with  a  heavy  «  roan.  "  Is  ye  goin'  to  make  young  missis 
feel  more  heart-br  ke  arter  she's  come  all  de  way  here  in  de 
middle  ob  de  night  to  show  us  dat  she  don't  forgit?  Lord 
bless  ye.  Miss  'Genia,  fur  dis  great  proof  ob  yer  lub.  Oh, 
His  glory  '11  shine  on  ye  in  de  las'  day,  brighter  dan  de  sun, 
an'  de  blessed  Lamb  of  God  '11  fold  ye  close  in  his  arms,  hoi' 
de  cup  of  life  to  yer  lips  which  ye'll  drink  and  lib  forebber  an' 
forebber." 

"You  striving  to  comfort  me!  Oh,  faithful  soul,  have  1 
deserved  this !  My  Father,  help  me  to  bear  my  punishment, 
for  thy  hand  is  very  heavy  upon  me ! " 


THE   GARLAND   OF   HOPE   FADING.  259 

It  was  a  strange  scene,  and  one  a  beholder  might  never 
forget — the  groaning  okl  man  upon  his  hai*d  bed,  witli  the 
stains  of  blood  all  over  the  coarse  sheet  where  ho  had  lain — 
the  fair  young  woman  beside  him  with  her  anguished  face 
uplifted  in  prayer.  The  dark  cloak  which  she  wore  had  fallen 
to  the  floor  and  left  her  white  dress  uncovered,  over  which  her 
loose  hair  fell  in  disordered  masses.  In  the  background,  with 
the  flickering  candle  at  her  feet,  sat  Aunt  Judy,  from  who^c 
lips  came  groans  in  response  to  every  sound  of  distress  from 
her  husband.  Angels  might  have  looked  with  pity  upon  so 
sad  a  picture  of  human  woe ;  but,  of  the  three  sufferers,  As- 
trea  Passiver,  mistress  of  broad  lands  and  stately  halls,  with 
gold  at  her  command  to  exceed  the  most  extravagant  desires, 
was  the  most  to  be  pitied.  Oh,  how  she  loathed  the  glitter- 
ing chains  she  wore !  How  she  shrank  from  the  sweetness  of 
flowers  whose  breath  made  her  soul  faint  within  her,  and 
under  every  beauteous  hue,  concealed  a  stinging  thorn!  She 
had  bent  her  lips  to  an  ambrosial  fountain,  and  the  waters  of 
Marah  flowed  within  them;  she  had  stretched  her  hand  for 
the  beautiful  garland  of  hope,  and  saw  it  wither  within  her 
grasp.  One  by  one  the  tender  petals  had  fallen,  until  only 
ashes  of  the  thing  which  was  once  beauty's  self,  remained. 
And  now,  what  had  she  left  to  make  life  endurable?  A  wife, 
a  mother,  a  mistress  of  many  slaves,  and  yet,  from  none  of 
these  could  she  hope  to  glean  a  pleasure  for  her  future  exist- 
ence. The  husband  had  fallen  from  his  high  pedestal,  crush- 
\n(r  in  his  fall  both  love  and  trust ;  and  to  see  her  child  jirow 
up  under  such  influences  as  those  which  now  made  the  curse 
bf  her  own  life,  could  yield  only  pain.  Despair  was  in  her 
heart.  She  put  forth  her  hand  and  clasping  the  old  negro's 
burning  palm,  bowed  her  brow  upon  it. 

•' Oh,  Jacob,  Jacob,  I  would'I  were  in  your  place! " 

"Why,  dear  missis?" 

"I  should  be  so  much  nearer  that  rest  for  which  my  soul 
longs  so  intensely." 

"Missis  must  be  patient  an'  bear  de  cross  till  de  dewine 


260  A   STORY   OF   THE    GREAT   REBELLION. 

Marster  sees  fit  to  take  it  away.  Oh,  we's  all  poor  crit- 
ters dat  don't  see  what  de  Lord  means  by  de  ways  he 
make  us  go,  an'  wee's  nebber  satisfied.  I'se  said  so  many 
times  to  de  young  darkies,  when  dey's  been  talking  about 
de  rich  white  folks,  an'  a  wishin'  dey  'd  been  born  white. 
Dey's  envied  you  missis,  many  a  time ;  jes  so  blin'  is  human 
natur." 

"Blind  indeed  to  envy  me,"  she  moaned.  "Ah,  poor 
things,  they  cannot  dream  of  how  I  pine  in  my  high  estate. 
How  gladly  would  I  take  a  crust  of  bread,  and  a  cup  of  cold 
water,  if  with  them,  I  could  have  freedom  to  do  good,  and 
love  to  sustain  me  in  it." 

"In  de  Lord's  good  time  ye  may,"  repeated  the  old  man. 
lifting  his  faded  eyes  upward.  "  An'  in  his  eyes,  eben  at  dis 
moment,  yer  deeds,  as  he  sees  'em  in  yer  heart,  will  bring 
down  his  blessin'  on  yer  head.  Nebber  despair,  dear  missis, 
God  is  berry  good  to  his  chillen." 

"  I  hope  you  will  always  find  Him  so  my  poor  old  Jacob, 
and  that  you  wiU  cover  me  with  the  mantle  of  charity  if  1 
seem  to  fall  short  in  my  duty  to  you  and  yours.  I  stole  away 
to  come  to  you  to-night;  if  I  do  not  come  again,  think  that  I 
could  not — that  something  happened  to  prevent  it.  Never 
believe  that  I  staid  away  because  I  wished  to  do  so," 

He  looked  at  her  wistfully. 

"I  nebber  will  doubt  my  dear  missis.  An'  don't  ye  come 
here  Miss  'Genia,  ef  it  is  gbin'  to  get  ye  in  any  trubble.  De 
angels  will  come  fur  ole  Jake  all  de  same." 

"Never  fear  me,  uncle,"  she  answered  as  she  rose  and  bent 
over  him.  "I  have  been  a  coward,  and  too  long  permitted 
my  foolish  hopes  to  keep  me  out  of  a  path  where  I  knew  thorns 
were  springing  rankly;  but  that  is  all  over  now.  Amends 
must  be  made.  Can't  you  turn  a  little  further  to  one  side, 
Uncle  Jacob?" 

"What  ye  goin'  to  do,  missis?" 

•'  Try  to  make  you  more  comfortable.  Oh,  poor  fellow,  how 
you  must  suffer ! " 


A  VISION    OF   THE   NIGHT.  261 

She  had  exposed  his  shoulders  and  found  the  skin  literally 
flayed  from  his  body. 

"  Don't  missis,  sich  work  ain't  fur  de  likes  ob  you.  Judy  '11 
do  dat." 

"No,  I  must  do  it  myself." 

She  took  a  soft  sponge  from  her  pocket  and  dipped  it  in  the 
tin  basin  which  Aunt  Judy  filled  and  handed  to  her,  then  care- 
fully bathed  the  swollen  shoulders  of  the  old  man,  after  which 
she  applied  a  cooling  lotion  which  she  had  brought  for  the 
purpose.  In  a  short  time  he  closed  his  eyes  with  a  sigh  of 
relief. 

"De  Lord  bless  ye,  missis,"  he  said  faintly,  "ye  don't  know 
how  good  dat  feels.  Ise  goin'  to  sleep  now,"  and  while  she 
gazed  upon  him  pityingly,  his  heavy  breathing  assured  her 
that  he  had  found  rest. 

"Let  him  sleep  just  as  long  as  he  can.  Aunt  Judy,"  she 
said,  preparing  to  go  out  softly.  "If  possible,  I  will  come 
again  to-morrow ;  if  not,  to-morrow  night." 

The  old  woman  followed  her  to  the  door  with  many  thanks ; 
but  she  broke  away  fi-om  her  garrulous  demonstrations,  and 
hastened  to  her  canoe.  It  was  where  she  left  it,  and  she  took 
up  the  paddle  with  eager  anxiety  to  reach  home,  for  it  was 
growing  late.  The  current  was  strong,  however,  and  it  was 
slow  work  going  against  it.  By  the  time  she  landed  at  the 
foot  of  the  steps  and  softly  drew  her  fi-ail  barque  into  the 
boat-house,  she  was  completely  exhausted. 

Mr.  Passive  r  was  still  lounging  upon  the  veranda,  but  hap- 
pened to  look  toward  the  river  just  as  she  mounted  the  steps. 
She  came  up  slowly,  her  white  garments  gleaming  in  the 
moonlight,  and  her  hair  floating  around  her  shoulders.  The 
dark  cloak  which  she  had  woi^n  was  accidentally  dropped  into 
the  river  as  she  came  up,  and  before  she  could  recover  it,  the 
woollen  fabric  had  filled  with  water  and  sunk  beyohd  reach; 
so,  when  he  now  saw  her,  not  a  particle  of  color  relieved  the 
glaring  whiteness  of  her  apparel.  It  did  not  cross  his  min. 
that  it  could  be  Astrea,  whom  he  had  locked  saCly  in  he 


262  A   STORY    OF   THE    GEEAT   EEBELLION. 

room,  and  a  queer  sensation  crept  through  his  veins  as  he 
looked.  Suddenly  the  figure  turned  off  upon  the  terrace  to 
the  left,  and  was  lost  to  sight. 

Filled  with  curiosity,  he  sprang  down  the  steps  and  fol- 
lowed, but  the  vision  had  flown.  He  could  see  nothing,  and 
after  having  gone  all  around  the  house  peering  into  every  nook 
where  it  could  have  hidden,  he  tried  the  doors  to  see  if  they 
were  fast,  and  went  back  to  the  veranda,  by  which  he  entered 
the  Hall. 

"I  wonder  who  the  deuce  it  could  have  been?"  he  mut- 
tered in  sore  perplexity.  "  It  looked  like  Eugenia,  but  that  is 
not  possible.     I  will  see,  though,  if  she  is  in  her  room." 

He  approached  her  door  and  unlocked  it  softly,  advancing 
upon  tiptoe.  There  was  a  regular  sound  of  breathing  from 
her  couch,  and  a  mellow  hght  from  the  east  window,  showed 
her  figure  dimly,  reposing  upon  the  pillows.  It  could  not 
have  been  her !  Who,  then,  was  it  and  what  did  it  all  mean  ? 
Mr.  Passiver  was  growing  more  and  more  puzzled,  and  very 
restless.  He  stole  up  stairs  to  see  if  Nettie  and  the  child 
were  still  there  and  found  them  sleeping.  The  remainder  of 
the  night  was  spent  in  wandering  about  the  Hall,  and  making 
zealous  efforts  to  solve  the  mystery ;  but  the  doors  were  all 
fast,  the  boats  and  skiffs  secure  in  the  boat-house,  the  windows 
closed,  and  all  the  household  quietly  locked  in  slumber.  For 
once,  Frederic  Passiver  was  compelled  to  own  himself  non- 
plussed. He  was  not  superstitious,  therefore  his  mind  rejected 
the  conclusion  to  which  many  others  might  have  been  driven. 
Still  it  was  a  mystery  which  greatly  perplexed  him,  and  he 
determined  to  solve  it  at  any  cost.  With  the  early  dawn  he 
unlocked  Mrs.  Passiver's  chamber,  and  again  put  the  key  into 
his  pocket,  in  order  to  keep  it  in  his  own  possession.  It  was 
not  his  purpose  to  keep  her  locked  up  all  day,  unless  forced 
to  do  so  to  prevent  a  public  expose  of  the  war  between  them. 
She  met  him  at  the  breakfast  table  with  a  calm  face,  poured 
his  coffee,  and  performed  every  little  duty  to  which  she  was 
accustomed,  as  if  nothing  had  happened.     Only  for  the  clear, 


STILL   WATERS    RUX   DEEP.  26b 

brilliant  light  of  her  eyes,  which  spoke  volumes  of  will,  he 
might  have  thought  her  subdued.  Her  manner  was  quiet 
enough,  and  her  voice  unusually  soft.  But  that  was  no  proof 
of  being  conquered.  As  he  regarded  her  closely  during  the 
meal,  he  became  convinced  that  his  task  would  be  a  much 
harder  one  than  he  had  anticipated.  The  reed  was  becoming 
an  oak.  He  might  bend  it,  but  in  bending,  would  it  break 
also  ?  The  future  must  decide  that ;  conquer  he  would,  even 
if,  in  proving  his  own  strength,  he  should  bring  the  pillars  of 
the  temple,  sampson-like,  tumbling  about  his  o^vn  ears  to 
crush  him. 


CHAPTEE  XXI. 
SHARP    PRACTICE    A^D    BRUTAL    DOINGS 

As  Mr.  Passiver  rose  fi'om  the  table,  Astrea  stretched  her 
hand  to  the  bell  and  rang  sharply. 

"Tell  the  coachman  to  bring  the  carriage  round  directly," 
she  ordered,  as  the  servant  appeared. 

"Where  are  you  going?"  asked  her  husband. 

"To  Florence." 

"What  takes  you  there?" 

"  My  pleasure" — then  after  a  moment  she  added,  as  if  averse 
to  such  glaring  curtness,  "I  have  a  little  shopping  to  do." 

"Shall  you  be  gone  long?" 

"Not  very — three  or  four  hours,  probably." 

"  You  had  better  instruct  one  of  the  girls  and  send  her  for 
what  you  want." 

"  There  is  no  good  reason  for  it,  and  I  prefer  to  go  myself," 
she  replied,  quietly.  "  Lily  needs  an  airing,  and  I  am  weary 
of  being  in  the  house  so  much.  It  is  not  often  that  I  feel  like 
driving  into  town,  and  I  owe  some  calls  that  ought  to  be  paid." 

"Very  well,  pay  them;  but  I  have  a  few  words  to  say  to 
you.  Hold  your  tongue  about  private  affairs,  and  when  you 
come  back,  see  that  you  keep  away  from  the  quarters." 

She  made  no  reply. 

"Do  you  hear  me,  Eugenia?" 

"Yes." 

"Then  why  do  you  sit  as  if  you  were  dumb?" 


VIGILANT   AND    WATCnFUL   ATTENTION.  265 

"Because  I  thought  an  answer  uncalled  for.  You  need 
not  have  given  the  order,  however.  I  shall  not  go  there  to- 
day." 

"You  intend  to  go  sometime?" 

"Most  assuredly." 

"  I  warn  you  to  beware  how  you  brave  me !  Do  I  seem 
like  a  man  to  be  trifled  with?" 

"You  could  not  more  than  murder  me,  Mr.  Passiver,  and  1 
have  often  thought  that  death  would  be  preferable  to  daily 
torture." 

"You  may  find  it  sooner  than  you  expect,"  he  answered, 
hotly.  "  I  warn  you  that  I  am  waxing  dangerous.  Where 
were  you  last  night?" 

The  random  shot  failed  to  confirm  a  suspicion,  if  he  had 
one.     The  beautiful  lips  curled  in  scorn. 

"  I  have  a  remembrance  of  having  been  locked  In  my  room 
last  night  by  my  loving  lord ;  and  if  my  ears  did  not  deceive 
me,  he  took  the  key  out  and  carried  it  away  with  him.  Now 
he  asks  me  where  I  was." 

"True,"  he  thought;  "it  could  not  have  been  her." 

Her  calm,  cool  sarcasm  and  scornful  lip  would  have  been 
sufficient  to  disarm  suspicion.  In  the  course  of  an  hour  the 
carriage  was  announced,  and  Mrs.  Passiver  entered  it  with 
Nettie  and  the  babe.  Before  they  were  fairly  out  of  sight, 
]Mr.  Passiver  ordered  his  horse,  and  mounting  it,  followed 
them.  Wherever  she  went,  his  watchful  regards  accompanied 
her.  He  saw  every  shop  she  entered,  noted  the  houses  at 
which  she  called,  and,  keeping  himself  out  of  sight,  made  a 
memoranda  of  her  entire  proceedings.  Not  until  he  saw  her 
enter  the  carriage  at  Doctor  Early's  door,  and  turn  the  horses' 
heads  homeward,  did  his  vigilance  relax.  When  she  had 
gone,  he  made  some  purchases,  ordered  them  sent  home  on  the 
following  day,  and  himself  took  the  road  back  to  the  Hall. 
But  he  did  not  go  straight  home.  He  took  another  road  just 
before  coming  in  sight  of  the  Plall,  and  rode  round  the  place, 
coming  in  from  the  opposite  direction,  triumphant  with  the 


266  A   STORY   OF   THE    GREAT   REBELLION. 

thought  of  the  part  he  had  played  so  successfully.  These 
were  the  conclusions  to  which  he  had  arrived  after  mentally 
summing  up  the  whole :  She  had  made  three  calls ;  they  were 
to  cover  her  real  object  in  visiting  Florence.  She  had  made 
a  few  purchases ;  they  were  to  cover  the  real  articles  wanted. 
He  had  seen  her  enter  a  drug  store.  On  the  morrow  he  would 
go  there  and  ask  for  his  bill,  and  find  out  what  articles  had 
been  purchased,  that  he  might  guess  her  designs.  Whatever 
had  been  obtained  there,  furnished  the  real  motive  for  her  trip 
to  town.  He  thought  himself  shrewd,  and  was,  undoubtedly. 
But  he  had  found  his  match  in  Astrea,  now  that  her  powers 
were  brought  into  play  against  him.  The  necessity  for  re- 
turning to  town  was  obviated  by  her  own  seeming  carelessness 
in  leaving  the  bill  of  sale,  which  had  been  receipted,  upon  her 
dressing-table.  He  glanced  at  it  hastily  during  a  brief  absence 
on  the  part  of  his  wife,  and  saw  that  her  purchases  consisted 
of  some  cologne,  a  bottle  of  soothing  syrup,  some  fancy  soaps, 
tooth  brushes,  and  rice  powder  for  the  baby.  There  were  no 
poisons,  lotions,  narcotics  or  powders.  Had  he  really  thought 
she  could  be  guilty  of  purchasing  any  deadly  thing  for  an  un- 
holy purpose  ?  If  any  one  had  asked  him,  he  would  have  in- 
dignantly denied  such  an  insinuation,  but  he  had  followed  her, 
and  had  scrutinized  every  action.  AYhy  did  he  do  it,  and  how 
did  it  happen  that  the  thought  of  poisons  came  into  his  mind? 
If  the  heart  of  man  is  filled  with  evil,  his  sight  is  strangely 
colored  by  that  which  he  carries  with  him.  And  Frederic 
Passiver  was  so  unscrupulous  himself,  he  could  not  set  treach- 
ery apart  from  others  where  his  interests  and  theirs  seemed  to 
conflict.  He  was  becoming  afraid  of  his  wife,  and  his  fears 
made  him  unjust  in  his  estimation  of  the  means  she  proposed 
to  use  to  accomplish  her  own  objects. 

Meantime,  Mrs.  Passiver  flitted  about  quietly,  putting  away 
her  purchases  and  wrappings  until  dinner  was  announced,  sCv. 
cretly  rejoicing  that  she  had  obtained  what  she  went  to  Flor- 
ence for,  without  leaving  a  trace  of  her  errand  behind  her. 
While  she  had  been  in  shops  and  stores,  Nettie,  with  Lily  in 


SUCCESSFUL    STRATEGY.  2(37 

her  arms,  had  gone  to  a  locksmith's,  by  lier  mistress'  order, 
and  purchased,  instead  of  a  duplicate,  a  pass  key,  by  which 
Astrea  could  go  all  over  the  house  without  hindrance.  This 
and  one  other  object  completed  the  sum  total  of  her  desires. 
A  long,  confidential  chat  with  her  old  family  physician,  in 
which  she  briefly  gave  him  to  understand  the  state  of  aflTairs 
at  Passiver  Hall,  and  claimed  his  promise  of  assistance  in  her 
time  of  need,  made  so  often  while  he  attended  her  during  her 
lono"  illness.  She  had  recounted  to  him  the  scenes  of  the 
night  previous,  while  he  listened  with  an  anxious  face. 

"But  how  did  you  get  out  of  your  room?"  he  asked,  curi- 
ously, when  she  had  told  him  of  being  locked  up,  and  her 
subsequent  visit  to  the  quarters. 

"Easily  enough,"  she  answered,  laughing  at  the  remem- 
brance. "  There  are  two  doors  to  my  chamber,  and  when  he 
had  secured  the  one,  I  heard  him  go  around  to  the  other  and 
try  it.  Finding  that  locked,  and  thinking  he  had  the  only 
key  which  could  open  it,  he  went  away.  Luckily  my  closet 
door  key  opens  this  second  door,  which  leads  through  my  bou- 
doir to  the  picture-gallery,  and  I  went  through  that,  descend- 
ing to  the  cellar,  whose  only  exit  is  upon  the  north  side  of 
the  Hall.  As  we  descend  to  it  by  a  stairway  leading  from  the 
kitchen,  I  easily  found  my  way  there,  opened  the  cellar  door, 
and  went  out,  locking  it  behind  me.  The  key  is  always  kept 
upon  the  inside,  so  I  thought  if  a  fancy  should  take  him  to  try 
it,  he  would  be  satisfied  on  finding  it  fast.  Of  course  I  came 
back  the  same  way,  left  the  key  upon  a  nail,  where  it  usually 
hangs,  ran  up  stairs  and  through  the  gallery  hall  to  the  gal- 
lery and  the  boudoir,  then  to  my  own  room,  which  I  fastened, 
putting  the  closet  key  back  into  its  place.  I  had  an  idea  that 
he  saw  me  as  I  entered,  and  hastened  to  get  into  bed  before 
he  came  to  see  if  I  was  safely  housed.  He  did  come,  after  a 
while,  but  I  had  grown  quite  composed,  and  he  soon  went 
away  satisfied,  though  he  endeavored  this  morning  to  surprise 
me  into  a  betrayal  of  my  nocturnal  rambles.  It  is  a  dreadful 
<.hing  to  be  reduced  to  such  a  state.  Doctor  Early,  but  what 


268  A   STORY   OF   THE   GREAT   REBELLION. 

can  I  do  ?    I  cannot  let  those  people  die  without  help,  and  you 
see  how  determinedly  he  opposes  me." 

The  old  gentleman  shook  his  head.  "  Bad,  bad !  I  don't 
know  what  to  say  to  you,  child,  except  that  I  would  do  as 
you  are  doing;  only  you  must  be  watchful  of  your  health. 
You  may  contract  a  fever  by  such  exposure  to  the  night  dew. 
Shall  I  come  to  see  you  to-morrow?" 

"  Yes,  and  bring  with  you  such  things  as  I  may  need  for 
the  negroes  in  such  cases.  I  dare  not  get  them  myself,  lest 
he  should  find  and  deprive  me  of  them.  If  he  knows  nothing 
of  it,  I  may  succeed  in  hiding  them  about  the  cabins  to  use 
when  wanted." 

With  this  she  left  him,  satisfied  with  having  made  her  ar- 
rangements for  future  operations  all  complete.  As  she  ex- 
pected, before  night  closed  in,  Mr.  Passiver  subjected  her  room 
to  a  search.  He  was  too  much  puzzled  to  let  the  mystery  go 
without  putting  everything  to  the  test,  and  in  his  examination 
of  all  the  keys  about  the  premises — found  out  tlic  use  to  which 
the  one  belonging  to  the  closet-door  had  been  put.  This  was 
what  she  feared  when  she  conceived  the  idea  of  getting  a 
pass-key,  and  now  had  double  cause  for  rejoicing,  when  she 
saw  him  go  to  her  wardrobe,  and  all  her  drawers  to  make  sure 
she  had  concealed  none  there.  Safe  in  her  bosom  the  little 
deliverer  rested,  and  she  knew  that  he  would  not  dare  to 
search  her  person  further  than  the  pocket  of  the  dress  she 
wore. 

That  night  after  tea,  he  asked  her  to  sing,  and  she  went 
cheerfully  to  the  piano,  choosing  his  favorites  and  singing  until 
he  wearied.  Lily  had  been  carried  up  stairs  again  according 
to  Mr.  Passiver's  order,  and  she  made  no  objection  to  it. 
Rather  earlier  than  usual,  she  retired  to  her  room,  and  he 
quietly  turned  the  key  upon  her  as  before.  This  time  he  was 
resolved  to  make  sure  that  his  bird  was  hopelessly  caged,  and 
after  going  through  every  room  and  locking  it,  carried  the 
keys  with  him  to  the  chamber  he  had  chosen  for  his  own  use 
on  that  side  of  the  Hall,  which  commanded  a  view  of  the 


NOCTURNAL   MYSTERIES.  269 

boat-house.  After  -watching  for  an  hour  without  seeing  any- 
thing, and  becoming  very  sleepy  from  last  night's  vigil,  he 
gave  up  and  fell  asleep,  confident  that  it  was  impossible  for 
Astrea  to  leave  the  house  through  all  those  bolts,  which  barred 
her  passage  to  the  outer  world.  But  he  had  scarcely  closed 
the  door  upon  himself,  ere  she,  without  any  difficulty  what- 
ever, succeeded  in  making  her  escape  by  the  same  route  as  be- 
fore until  she  stood  outside  of  the  Hall;  but  then,  instead  of 
going  by  the  way  of  the  river,  she  glided  through  the  shrub- 
bery and  over  the  meadow  lands,  walking  swiftly  all  the  way 
until  she  reached  the  quarters.  In  the  course  of  a  couple  of 
hours,  she  had  discharged  her  duties  there,  and  returned  safely 
to  her  chamber.  Mr.  Passiver  stealing  into  her  room  just  after 
midnight,  found  her  fast  asleep,  and  went  back  to  his  rest, 
satisfied  of  having  fjained  the  advantaoje.  But  what  was  his 
astonishment  when  morning  came,  to  find  that  some  one  had 
been  in  his  chamber  and  left  its  contents  in  dire  confusion. 
His  boots  were  upon  the  mantel-piece — his  clothes  thrown 
across  the  foot  of  the  bed,  and  all  the  keys  which  he  had  left 
in  his  cap  upon  the  bureau,  laid  in  a  row  upon  the  pillow  be- 
side him.  He  gazed  at  these  evidences  of  a  nocturnal  visitor 
in  utter  amazement,  finally  springing  from  the  bed  with  a 
furious  oath. 

"Is  the  devil  in  the  house,  I  wonder!"  and  he  tried  and 
found  the  door  fast,  as  he  had  left  it.  There  was  the  key, 
which  he  had  taken  out  on  retiring  with  the  others  upon  the 
pillow,  and  for  any  one  to  have  entered  by  any  of  the  win- 
dows was  utterly  impossible.  How,  then,  could  this  thing 
have  happened  ?  He  had  been  puzzled  before  ;  he  was  more 
puzzled  now,  and  furiously  enraged  into  the  bargain. 

"  Before  this  day  closes  I  will  ferret  out  this  mystery,  or  it 
shall  go  hard  with  me ! "  he  swore  as  he  slammed  the  door 
behind  him,  and  stalked  down  stairs.  He  began  by  entering 
Astrea's  room  and  confronting  her  with  a  resolute  face. 

"I  want  you  to  teU  me  by  what  means  you  entered  my 
chamber  last  night  and  played  the  dickens  with  my  things  ?  " 


270  A   STORY   OF   THE   GREAT   REBELLION. 

"I  have  not  been  near  you,  Frederic,"  she  replied  with  un- 
feigned surprise,  while  his  glance  seemed  to  transfix  her  with 
its  sharp  scrutiny.     "What  do  you  mean?" 

"  Just  what  I  say.  I  occupied  the  pink  chamber  last  night, 
and  after  entering  it,  locked  the  door  and  took  out  the  key. 
Durincr  the  niirht  some  one  came  in  and  moved  everythino; 
from  its  proper  place,  and  I  am  determined  to  find  out  who 
did  it.  Will  you  swear  that  it  was  not  you  who  played  such 
tricks  upon  me?" 

"I  give  you  my  word  of  honor  that  I  did  not,  and  know 
nothing  about  it.     I  am  just  as  ignorant  as  you  are." 

"  By  heavens !  It  is  strange,"  he  cried,  stamping  upon  the 
floor.  "I  know  you  are  telling  the  truth,  for  I  could  detect  a 
lie  instantly.  Besides  you  would  glory  in  making  me  know 
that  you  had  outwitted  me.  Could  it  have  been  any  of  the 
servants?" 

"Scarcely,  since  negroes  are  afraid  of  their  own  shadows 
at  night,  I  cannot  imagine  any  of  them  engaged  in  anything 
so  daring." 

"  But  some  one  does  it !  The  question  is,  w7io  dares  to  play 
such  pranks?  Last  night  I  saw  some  one  come  up  from  the 
boat-house  and  disappear  around  the  hall ;  but  though  I  fol- 
lowed quickly  I  could  discover  nothing  afterwards.  Now  this 
other  confirms  me  in  the  practice  of  some  deviltry  upon  the 
premises,  and  I  intend  to  find  out  what  it  means." 

"I  am  sure  I  hope  you  may,"  she  answered  candidly,  for 
she  was  herself  greatly  at  fault,  having  no  idea  who  the  per' 
petrator  of  such  practical  jokes  could  be. 

The  search  began  immediately  after  breakfast  and  continued 
through  the  day.  Every  servant  was  closely  examined,  and 
as  a  natural  consequence,  frightened  half  to  death.  It  be- 
longs to  the  race  to  see  evidences  of  the  other  world  in  every- 
thing mysterious,  and  the  excitement  at  Passiver  Hall  when 
it  became  known  what  had  occurred,  exceeded  all  bounds. 
The  young  master  indulged  in  some  very  harsh  threats  in 
order  to  preserve  any  degree  of  quiet  in  the  premises.     It  was 


A    SLAVE    WIIirrEU    TO   DEATH.  271 

unfortunate  for  tlie  success  of  Astrea's  plans,  that  such  an  ex- 
citement should  have  arisen  just  then,  as  it  opened  the  eyes 
of  every  creature  upon  the  place  to  exceeding  watchfulness, 
and  compelled  her  to  forego  her  visits  to  the  quarters.  Mr. 
Passiver  after  having  locked  all  the  doors,  armed  with  a  re- 
volver, took  it  upon  himself  to  patrol  the  house  that  nothing 
might  leave  or  approach  it  unseen.  In  this  way  the  first  night 
passed  without  the  recurrence  of  any  startling  event.  On  the 
second,  the  mysterious  confusion  was  deepened  tenfold,  the 
articles  of  nearly  every  room  in  the  house,  having  been  trans- 
ferred from  their  proper  places,  and  carried  all  over  the  build- 
ing. Astrea  Avas  bewildered,  Mr.  Passiver  furious,  while  the 
negroes  in  their  affi'ight,  did  not  dare  to  speak  save  in  myste- 
rious whispers  and  stifled  undertones.  And,  as  if  to  deepen 
the  fearful  impression  these  events  had  made  upon  their  minds, 
Nettie  came  in  from  a  long  walk  with  Lily,  and  after  making 
them  promise  under  the  most  solemn  pledges  of  good  faith, 
not  to  tell  their  mistress,  imparted  the  Information  that  Uncle 
Jacob  had  died  the  night  previous,  which  fact  accounted  for 
the  strange  things  which  had  lately  been  going  on  at  the  Hall. 

"First,  it  was  old  Roger;  then  Kate  and  her  baby;  now 
Uncle  Jake.  No  wonder  the  old  Nick  had  come  up  to  the 
yeth  to  see  after  his  own." 

Nettie  ahvays  spoke  with  the  broadest  negro  dialect  in 
speaking  to  the  other  servants ;  but  with  her  mistress,  or  cul- 
tivated people,  she  usually  expressed  herself  with  a  purity 
rarely  found  in  that  class  to  which  she  belonged. 

"Don't  ye  'spose  missis  knows  it?"  asked  the  cook  from  the 
midst  of  the  group  gathered  around  the  girl,  upon  whose 
words  they  hung  breathlessly. 

"Knows  what?" 

"Dat  Uncle  Jake's  done  dead!" 

"  No,  an'  she  mustn't  know  it,  'cause  it  would  just  kill  her. 
She  know'd  well  'nuif  marster'd  whipped  him  nearly  to  def,  and 
dey  had  a'  awful  quarrel.  Ever  sence  that,  he  locks  her  up 
every  night  and  puts  de  keys  in  his  pocket  to  keep  her  from 


272  A   STORY    OF   THE   GREAT   REBELLION. 

goin'  out.  I  tell  ye  all  dese  drea'ful  things  is  a  judgment  on 
him,  fur  it's  his  doin's  dat's  kill'd  mor'n  one  nigger  on  dis  plan- 
tation. Look  out  dat  ye  keep  yer  mouths  shet,  or  some  o' 
you'll  go  next." 

They  did  not  need  this  warning,  hut  the  cunning  Nettie 
thought  it  quite  as  well  to  throw  it  in  to  complete  the  effect, 
as  she  took  Lily  in  her  arms  and  left  the  kitchen  to  seek  her 
young  mistress.  She  found  her  alone  in  her  boudoir,  deeply 
pondering  over  what  had  transpired.  As  Nettie  came  in,  she 
looked  up  with  a  sigh,  dreading  to  hear  the  news  she  might 
have  to  communicate. 

"Well,  Nettie,  have  you  been  to  the  fields?"  she  asked,  as 
the  girl  hesitated. 

"Yes,  missis." 

"What  did  you  learn?" 

"Uncle  Jake's  dead,"  with  a  glance  of  weU  assumed  fear 
all  around  her. 

"Dead!  another  one  gone!"  groaned  Astrea,  despairingly. 
"Oh,  where  will  this  end?" 

"Don't  talk  so  loud,  missis;  marster  might  hear  you!  If 
he's  to  find  out  I'd  been  thar,  he'd  skin  me  alive.  I  'spect  he 
hates  me  now,  and  only  wants  to  git  a  chance  to  take  my 
head  off." 

"Why  do  you  think  so?" 

"  'Cause  he  allers  looks  at  me's  if  he  wanted  to  knock  me 
down.  If  it  wasn't  for  Miss  Lily,  I'd  ruther  go  to  the  fields 
any  day,  and  take  my  chances  with  Ormand." 

"  Hush,  Nettie ;  you  are  becoming  disrespectful,  and  must 
be  more  careful.  Only  try  to  do  what  is  right,  and  I  will  en- 
deavor to  take  care  of  you." 

"Missis  means  to  do  all  she  says,  but  she  couldn't  save 
old  Jake  or  any  o'  them  down  at  the  quarters,"  answered  the 
girl,  slyly  glancing  at  her  mistress  from  beneath  her  long 
lashes.  Nettie  was  a  pretty,  bright  mulatto  girl,  entirely  fear- 
less, and  loving  nothing  on  earth  so  well  as  to  get  into  some 
mischief  that  could  set  everybody  in  a  stew,  until  she  had 


MORE  wnirriNGS  threatened.  273 

been  appointed  to  wait  on  Astrea,  when  the  exchange  of  ser- 
vant? was  made.  Then  she  became  very  devoted  to  her  lovely 
young  mistress,  and  at  her  own  request,  was  allowed  to  take 
charge  of  Lily  when  she  came  into  the  Avorld.  For  cither  of 
these,  she  would  have  risked  her  life ;  but  woe  to  those  whom 
she  might  learn  to  hate.  She  might  not  dare  openly  to  re- 
venge herself,  but  to  the  secret  torments  which  she  devised 
there  was  no  end.  The  moment  after  she  had  made  the  answer 
recorded  above,  she  repented  sincerely,  seeing  the  pain  it  occa- 
sioned.    Poor  Astrea  fell  upon  her  knees  and  burst  into  tears. 

"I  know  it,  oh,  I  know  it,  but  what  can  I  do! "  she  groaned, 
with  her  head  bowed  upon  a  chair.  "  Nettie,  if  I  could  die  in 
their  stead,  I  would  gladly  give  up  my  life  to  save  theirs ;  but 
you  must  bear  witness  of  all  the  good  intentions  which  I  strive 
vainly  to  carry  out.  Don't  let  the  poor,  crushed  sufferers 
learn  to  hate  me.  If  anything  happens  that  I  cannot  go  to 
them  in  their  troubles,  you  must  manage  to  tell  them  how  it 
is.     I  am  almost  in  despair." 

"Oh,  missis,  get  up  quick!  Marster's  comin'!"  cried  the 
girl  in  alarm,  hearing  a  step  in  the  hall,  and  Astrea  rose  to  her 
feet  as  he  entered.  The  traces  of  tears  caught  his  attention 
at  once. 

""What's  happened  now?"  he  demanded  roughly. 

"Xot  much,"  she  replied  with  bitter  sarcasm;  "it  is  nothing 
of  any  consequence  at  all,  I  suppose,  if  another  of  my  negroes 
died  last  night  from  the  effects  of  the  beating  you  gave  him 
the  other  day! " 

"AYho  says  that  he  is  dead?" 

"It  does  not  matter;  I  knoAv  it,  and  that  is  quite  enough." 

"  Did  you  tell  her  ?  "  turning  furiously  to  Nettie,  who  shrank 
back  in  alarm. 

"How'd  marster  'spose  I  know'd  it?"  she  faltered. 

"It  was  you  who  brought  tales  to  her  before.     Jake  told 

you  about  Kate,  and  you  told  your  mistress.     Now  look  here, 

my  girl ;  I  will  let  you  off  this  time,  but  if  I  ever  hear  of 

ycur  carrying  tales  again  between  the  Hall  and  the  quarters 

18 


274  A   STORY    OF   THE    GREAT   REBELLION. 

to  anybody,  I'll  give  you  fifty  lashes!  Mind  that  you  don'« 
forget  this." 

"Yes,  marster." 

She  crept  humbly  from  the  room,  but  the  moment  she  was 
out  of  sight,  lifted  her  clenched  hand  and  shook  it  spitefully. 

"I'll  not  forgit — never  think  it!  I'll  not  forg-it,  vounw 
marster!  So,  you  look  out,  y'll  catch  it  wuss'n  I  will.  vSome 
night  the  devil  hisself 'II  come  fur  one  o'  his  imps  I  Mind,  I 
teUye!" 

Unconscious  of  these  threats  against  his  welfare,  Mr.  Pas- 
si  ver  threw  himself  moodily  into  a  chair  before  his  wife. 

"  I  cannot  find  out  a  tiling  that  can  help  me  to  solve  this 
infernal  mystery!  If  you  have  the  slightest  idea,  you  had 
better  give  me  the  benefit  of  it,  or  something  awful  may  hap- 
pen. I  am  resolved  to  shoot  the  first  person  I  see  proAvling 
round  inside  of  this  house,  or  outside  of  it,  after  ten  o'clock. 
This  shall  not  go  on  any  longer." 

"I  assure  you  that  I  cannot  tell  you.  If  I  had  possessed 
the  power  to  open  the  doors  which  you  took  such  pains  to 
fasten  last  night,  I  could  affirm  upon  oath  with  perfect  truth, 
that  I  did  not  do  it.  How,  then,  can  you  suppose  that  I  know 
anything  about  it?" 

"I  don't  suppose  you  do,"  came  reluctantly  from  his  lips. 
"It  is  impossible! "  springing  up  with  an  impulse  that  sent  his 
chair  tumbling  upon  the  carpet.  "  But,  by  the  Lord  Harry, 
somebody  does  know,  and  I  want  to  find  out  who  it  is.  This 
thing;  is  driving;  me  mad !  " 

"Abandon  your  attempts  to  solve  the  mystery,  and  let 
things  take  their  course.  The  culprit  will  betray  himself 
after  awhile." 

"  Yes,  abandon  it,  and  get  strangled  in  my  bed !  Xo,  I'm 
not  such  a  fool ! " 

"  As  you  please ;  I  only  made  the  suggestion,"  she  answered 
indifferently. 

"You  would  not  care  if  I  should  be  found  dead  some 
morning,  I  dare  say,"'  he  said  angrily. 


DEFIANCE   AND   SARCASM. 


275 


"Perhaps  you  judge  uie  by  yourself." 

"  I  judge  you  by  your  actions.  No  wife  avIio  loves  her 
husband,  will  do  as  you  have  done  and  are  doing." 

"Very  likely." 

"Then  I  am  to  understand  that  you  do  not  love  me?" 

"  Certainly." 

"A  beautiful  confession,  truly!" 

"It  cannot  affect  you,  since  you  care  neither  for  my  love  or 
hate.  You  only  want  to  be  my  ' master! '  I  object  to  the  last, 
and  do  not  intend  to  own  you  as  such,  though  you  may  lock 
me  up,  starve  or  even  beat  me.  That  man  is  my  master  who 
makes  me  respect  him,  and  you  cannot  do  that." 

It  was  her  turn  now  to  be  cool,  while  he  literally  foamed 
with  passion. 

"If  you  value  your  life,  take  care!"  he  gasped,  catching 
her  arm  and  shaking  her  with  violence.  I'll  crush  you  into 
atoms  before  I'll  submit  to  being  brow-beaten  by  a  woman, 
and  that  woman,  my  wife." 

She  grew  more  cool  as  he  became  more  enraged,  and  pre- 
served the  most  stolid  calmness. 

"  Crush  me  if  you  like ;  resist  I  always  will— if  not  in 
action,  in  spirit.  But  if  you  fail  to  finish. your  work,  and  keep 
me  in  torture,  I  will  leave  your  house  forever.  This  cannot 
last  always." 

"  Dare  to  try  it !  I  would  track  you  to  the  ends  of  the  earth, 
if  you  dared  to  leave  my  doors ;  and  then  all  purgatory  could 
not  devise  a  punishment  like  that  which  should  be  yours. 
You  may  give  me  untold  trouble  in  my  own  house,  but  you 
shall  never  disgrace  me — make  my  name  the  theme  for  gossip 
through  all  Alabama,  by  deserting  me." 

"  Better  that  than  to  be  hung  for  murder,"  she  answered 

quietly.     "  I  feel  assured  if  I  do  not  go,  you  will  kill  me  yet." 

"If  I  do,  it  will  be  so  well  done,  the  sharpest  detective  in 

Christendom  would  fail  to  fasten  proofs  upon  me.     I  am  not  a 

bungler,  rest  assured." 

"O,  I  beg  your  pardon!     Perhaps  practice  has  perfected 


276  A   STORY    OF   THE    GREAT   REBELLION. 

you  in  this  delicate  work.  I  forgot  that  you  were  not  a  novice 
in  taking  life,  without  laying  yourself  open  to  the  just  punish- 
ment of  your  crimes." 

"  Eepeat  those  words,  and  I  will  knock  you  down." 

"  If  you  choose  to  be  a  coward  as  well  as  a  murderer  and 
a  tyrant,  strike !    No  one  but  a  coward  would  strike  a  woman." 

She  stood  with  her  calm,  fair  brow  uplifted,  and  in  his 
brutal  passion,  he  brought  his  hand  down  heavily  upon  it. 
She  sank  at  his  feet  without  a  moan, 

"My  God!  I  iiave  killed  her!"  he  gasped,  as  the  mists 
cleared  away  from  his  eyes  and  reason  began  to  return  to  him. 
In  an  agony  of  alarm,  he  snatched  her  up  in  his  arms  and 
carried  her  to  a  sofa,  where  he  laid  her  hastily  down  and  began 
to  dash  water  in  her  face. 

Several  minutes  passed  without  a  sign  of  returning  life, 
and,  as  if  to  complicate  confusing  affairs  at  that  moment, 
Doctor  Early  was  announced.  Frederic  Passiver  ground  his 
teeth  with  rage  as  the  old  g-entleman  advanced  into  the  room 
with  the  air  of  one  who  had  no  need  to  wait  for  an  assurance 
of  being  welcome.  But  the  moment  his  eyes  fell  upon  As- 
trea's  pale,  motionless  features,  his  whole  expression  changed 
to  one  of  alarm  and  distrust. 

"What  is  this?"  he  asked  quickly,  coifling  to  her  side,  and 
the  man's  ready  instinct  for  self-preservation  prompted  a  false- 
hood without  stopping  to  consider. 

"My  wife  has  met  with  a  serious  accident,  I  fear,  and  has 
fainted  with  the  pain.  She  stumbled  and  fell,  striking  her 
forehead  in  her  fall." 

"Were  you  in  the  room  when  It  happened?" 

"Yes,  standing  near  her.  Pray  see  what  extent  of  injury 
she  has  received." 

His  face  was  pale  and  anxious  enough  to  have  won  pity 
from  any  other  than  Doctor  Early,  who  made  no  reply  while 
he  examined  his  patient.  Suddenly  he  put  out  his  hand  and 
caught  Mr.  Passiver's,  saying  passionately: 

"I  knew  it,  sir!  I  knew  it!     Look  at  that  hand,  and  then 


A   CROWNING   ACT   OF   BRUTALITY.  277 

dare  to  say  that  you  did  not  strike  her  with  it!  Oh,  man! 
what  are  you  made  of,  that  you  can  find  it  in  your  heart  to 
abuse  a  woman  like  this?  A  blessing  for  her  if  she  never 
wakes  again,  and  a  blessing  for  the  country,  since  it  will  rid 
us  of  so  desperate  a  character  by  treating  you  to  a  dance  in 
the  air!" 

"Hold!  Doctor  Early;  no  more  of  this,  or  you  may  be 
made  to  repent  it  in  a  manner  you  do  not  expect.  This  hurt 
to  my  hand  was  purely  accidental,  and  in  my  affright  at  her 
fall,  I  did  not  even  know  that  I  had  hurt  myself  until  you 
called  my  attention  to  it  this  moment.  If  my  poor  wife  re- 
covers, she  will  bear  me  out  in  my  denial  of  so  brutal  a  deed. 
"When  that  happens,  I  will  deal  with  you  as  you  deserve,  but 
now  for  God's  sake,  attend  to  her." 

Doctor  Early  was  staggered.  Had  he  been  too  hasty,  after 
all?  Frederic  Passiver's  proud,  resentful  air,  mingled  with 
that  anxious,  and  at  the  same  time  assured  expression,  made 
liim  waver  in  his  opinion.  A  few  moment's  application  of 
restoratives  brought  her  back  to  consciousness,  her  senses  re- 
turning very  slowly.  When  her  eyes  opened  upon  the  two 
anxious  faces  bendins;  over  her,  she  jjave  one  moan  and  closed 
them  again  with  a  shudder. 

"Why  did  he  strike  you?"  asked  the  Doctor  in  her  ear. 
She  did  not  move,  and  both  gentlemen  waited  breathlessly  for 
her  reply. 

"Who  said  he  struck  me?" 

Mr.  Passiver's  eyes  blazed  with  triumph. 

"I  said  so." 

Her  white  lips  moved  with  difficulty. 

"You  are  hasty,  Doctor;  I  fell." 

Loyal  woman!  This  after  such  an  indignity,  to  spare  him 
from  the  public  exj.osure  of  so  brutal  ad  act.  Had  the  heart 
of  the  man  been  human,  he  must  have  loved  her  for  that  one 
brave  and  unselfish  defence,  but  ho  thought  only  of  himself, 
ard  drew  up  his  fine  figure  haughtily. 

"I  am  ready  to  accept  your  apology  sir,  or  to  settle  the 


278       A  STORY  OF  THE  GREAT  REBELLIOX. 

matter  with  you  elsewhere,  and  in  a  different  way,"  he  said 
coldly. 

"If  I  have  wronged  you,  Mr.  Passiver,  I  am  exceedingly 
sorry,  and  beg  your  pardon  in  all  sincerity,"  answered  the  old 
man  with  a  huskiness  of  voice  which  betrayed  deep  emotion. 
The  excitement  of  the  moment  had  nearly  unnerved  him,  and 
Astrea's  deathly  features  did  the  rest.  He  turned  his  hea(3 
aside  to  conceal  the  large  tears  which  ran  down  his  cheeks  as 
the  young  planter  bowed  his  haughty  acceptance  of  the  apol- 
ogy, and  crossed  the  room.  In  answer  to  the  Doctor's  ring, 
a  servant  came,  and  was  ordered  to  assist  her  mistress  to  bed. 

"No,  no,  I  will  not  lie  down  except  on  this  sofa,"  said  As- 
trea  rousing.  "  Please  let  me  be  quiet  for  awhile ;  that  is  all 
I  need." 

"  As  you  like,  my  child ;  but  you  must  not  talk.  Can  you 
sleep?" 

"I  think  not.     "Where  is  Mr.  Passiver?" 

"At  the  window.     Do  you  want  him?" 

"No,  I  only  asked.  How  did  you  happen  to  come  here. 
Doctor?" 

"  I  was  passing  and  thought  I  would  stop  a  moment,  which 
was  quite  lucky,  for  you  had  just  met  with  this  accident.  As 
soon  as  you  feel  a  little  better,  I  must  leave  you  again." 

"It  is  scarcely  worth  while  to  detain  you,  I  think,"  she 
answered  with  an  effort.  It  was  so  hard  to  bear  his  presence, 
with  the  fear  she  had  of  betraying  what  she  desired  to  con- 
ceal from  him.  He  saw  that  she  preferred  to  have  him  depart, 
and  rose  at  once. 

"Then  I  will  say  good-bye  now,  and  call  as  I  return,  if  I 
have  time." 

INIr.  Passiver  followed  him  to  the  door. 

"Do  not  trouble  yourself  to  come  again,"  he  said  in  a  low 
voice,  "we  can  dispense  with  your  services  in  future." 

The  Doctor  bowed,  and  went  slowly  out  in' o  the  hall. 

"Recall  your  words,  or  apologize  for  them,  else  you  may 
be  sorry  for  what  you  have  done." 


FORMAL   APOLOGIES.  279 

Mr.  Passiver  turned  and  saw  Astrea  at  his  side,  her  eyes 
dasliing  with  a  sudden  passion.     His  eyes  questioned  her. 

"  Yes,  I  will  expose  you,"  answering  his  glances  as  if  he 
had  spoken.  "  Dej)rive  me  of  my  only  friend,  and  I  shall  not 
strive  to  shield  you  from  the  consequences  of  your  actions." 

He  knew  that  he  did  not  dare  to  trifle  with  her  then,  and 
hastened  after  the  Doctor.  The  manner  with  which  he  ap- 
proached him,  was  ingenuously  frank  and  engaging. 

"It  is  my  turn  to  apologize  now,  Doctor  Early.  I  have 
followed  to  beg  you  to  forget  my  hasty  words,  and  to  come 
again  as  usual,  when  needed,  or  socially.  You  must  acknowl- 
edge that  the  accusation  you  made,  at  a  moment  when  I  was 
in  an  agony  of  distress  over  the  accident  which  threatened  to 
deprive  me  of  my  wife,  was  a  hard  thing  to  bear — especially 
for  a  man  of  my  naturally  resentful  temperament." 

"I  frankly  own  that  it  was  hard.  When  a  man  has  apolo- 
gized for  a  wrong,  however,  I  do  not  well  see  how  he  could 
do  more,  I  am  Avilling  to  make  any  reparation  in  my  power." 

"  Let  it  pass  then,  and  we  will  try  to  forget  it,  you  will  not 
allow  what  I  said  to  keep  you  away  from  us?" 

"No,  for  Mrs.  Passiver's  sake  I  will  not." 

Both  gentlemen  bowed  with  stiff  formality,  and  the  Doctor 
rode  away.  Mr.  Passiver  looked  after  him  with  clenched 
hands,  and  teeth  set  hard. 

"  My  turn  will  come  sooner  or  later,  and  I  shall  have  full 
pay  for  all  this,  my  old  friend !  When  I  yield  to  mortal  man, 
it  is  that  my  final  revenge  may  be  sweeter.  Never  yet  have 
I  been  forced  to  record  a  failure,  and  in  your  case  success  will 
be  doubly  sweet." 

When  he  returned  to  the  Hall,  Astrea  was  lying  upon  the 
sofa  again,  looking  very  faint,  with  her  face  turned  from  him 
as  he  entered.  He  brought  a  chair  and  sat  down  near  her, 
his  mood  being  relentless  in  its  will  to  torture. 

"  Well,  madam,  I  hope  you  have  learned  by  this  time,  that 
it  is  dangerous  to  brave  me  with  impunity.  You  have  only 
yourself  to  blame  for  what  has  passed  here  to-day,  and  it  will 


280  A   STORY    OF   THE    GREAT   REBELLIOX. 

be  your  fault  if  it  is  repeated  in  tlie  future.  Let  this  lessor 
suffice ;  it  will  not  be  pleasant  to  me  to  have  a  frequent  recur- 
rence of  the  same  scenes.  I  am  disposed  to  be  kind  and 
peaceable  in  my  nature,  and  only  demand  obedience.  Give 
me  that  without  question  or  hesitation  and  this  will  never 
happen  again." 

"It  never  w^ill  happen  again." 

"  Very  good ;  I  thought  you'd  come  round  at  last.  Pray 
why  did  you  tell  Doctor  Early  that  you — fell?" 

"  I  did  fall — after  you  struck  me.  The  reason  I  chose  to 
conceal  the  truth  from  him,  was  because  I  knew  that  my  self- 
respect  would  force  me  to  leave  you  the  moment  a  knowledge 
of  such  abuse  went  beyond  our  own  doors ;  and  I  have  rea- 
sons for  preferring  to  remain  at  present." 

"^\Tiat  are  they?" 

"I  must  be  excused  for  withholding  them  now.  Time  will 
show." 

"  So !  you  are  not  conquered  yet !  All  right,  my  lady ;  you 
will  find  me  more  than  a  match  for  your  stubborn  will.  After 
all,  I  don't  know  but  I  prefer  to  have  you  keej)  it  up  as  long 
as  you  can.  It  will  afford  me  infinite  amusement,  and  quite 
a  triumph  in  the  end,  to  have  tamed  such  a  shrew.  The  spice 
of  life  consists  in  the  breaking  down  of  barriers  which  impede 
the  will  of  man." 

She  was  silent. 

"You  have  chosen  to  place  yourself  in  my  way  wuth  a  stub- 
born resolution  which  really  does  you  credit,"  he  went  on 
coolly,  "  seeing  that  you  are  only  a  woman.  Women  are  usu- 
ally very  weak  and  inconsistent,  and  wUl  give  way  with  the 
first  shght  scratch  they  receive  in  a  contest.  You  are  spunky, 
and  can  stand  pain;  but  you  have  very  false  ideas.  Xow, 
those  niggers  you  make  such  a  ftiss  about !  There  is  no  earth- 
ly use  in  it.  Ninety-nine  men  out  of  every  hundred  will  tell 
you  that  it  is  a  real  advantage  to  get  rid  of  those  old  and  use- 
less ones,  who  are  only  an  incumbrance  to  the  estate.  There 
are  heavy  taxes  to  pay  upon  them,  while  they  cannot  earn 


GETTING    KID    OF    INCUMBRANCES.  281 

their  board,  and  are  only  fit  to  hobble  around  and  spread  dis- 
satisfaction among  the  others  by  their  complaints  and  misrep- 
resentations. The  sooner  they  'go  home,'  the  better;  and 
where  such  events  as  that  affiiir  with  Kate,  occur,  the  result 
serves  to  set  an  example  to  others  that  is  very  salutary  in  its 
effect.  To  be  sure,  one  does  not  like  to  lose  a  valuable  woman 
like  that,  but  then  an  occasional  loss  in  that  way  is  absolutely 
necessary." 

He  mio-ht  as  well  have  talked  to  a  stone  for  all  the  sign  she 
gave.  She  lay  motionless  as  marble,  with  closed  eyes,  but 
with  an  ano-uish  of  heart  that  she  strove  with  all  her  soul  to 
conceal  from  his  sight.  Seeing  that  he  failed  to  make  any 
startling  impression  upon  her,  and  growing  weary  of  argument 
without  opposition,  he  rose  and  left  the  room. 


CHAPTER  XXIL 
FLIGHT    OF    "GOODS    AND    CHATTELS." 

After  this  last  event,  which  served  not  only  to  excite  the 
secret  fears  of  the  young  planter,  but  to  threaten  his  reputa- 
tion, and  fasten  odium  upon  him,  matters  went  on  rather  more 
peacefully  at  Passiver  Hall.  Astrea  fell  into  a  fever  which 
lasted  for  some  days,  rendering  a  daily  visit  from  her  physi- 
cian necessary  until  it  was  broken,  and  she  began  to  recover. 
During  this  time,  without  directly  questioning  her  upon  the 
subject,  he  endeavored  to  ascertain  whether  his  accusation  had 
been  really  true,  as  he  suspected,  in  spite  of  denials ;  but  she 
invariably  parried  his  attempts  either  to  trap  her  into  a  con- 
fession or  to  win  her  confidence  on  that  one  point.  She  would 
not  betray  him. 

Passiver  Hall,  during  this  time,  was  very  quiet.  The 
ghostly  demonstrations  which  had  perplexed  all  and  frightened 
many,  ceased  to  disturb  them,  and  a  stranger  might  easily 
have  imagined  this  the  most  peaceful  and  luxurious  home  in 
the  South,  judging  by  its  appearance.  But  the  master  was 
ill  at  ease  with  all  his  assurance,  and  the  mistress  lay  think- 
ing, day  after  day,  of  her  people,  and  grieving  over  their 
wrongs  while  her  hands  were  powerless.  She  thought  of 
what  had  passed  with  a  heavy  heart;  of  the  present  with 
many  doubts;  of  the  future  with  fear. 

"Oh,  Doctor,"  she  said  one  day  while  speaking  upon  the 
subject  with  him,  "  when  I  think  of  all  that  ought  to  be  done, 
I  feel  so  small  and  weak,  it  fills  Xi\e  with  despair.     It  is  like 


A   SOUTHERN   WOMAN   WITH   NORTHERN   VIEWS.      283 

attempting  to  overturn  the  world,  for  one  woman  to  put  her 
small  strength  against  so  mighty  an  evil  as  this  evil  of  slavery. 
I  stand  alone  in  niy  views,  and  might  preach  against  wrong 
and  oppression  till  my  breath  was  spent,  without  making  one 
good  impression.  They  will  laugh  at  me,  who  hear,  if  they 
da  not  angrily  call  me  a  fool ;  and  if  you  should  ask  them  why 
slavery  is  a  divine  right  and  an  absolute  necessity,  they  will 
coolly  ask  in  return,  if  it  is  necessary  to  eat,  or  to  breathe,  in 
order  to  live.  When  it  comes  to  such  unreasoning  tenacity 
as  this,  what  can  we  do?" 

"  What  would  you  do  Avith  your  own  slaves,  if  you  had  the 
ability  to  act  just  as  you  pleased  with  them?" 

"  Free  every  one,"  she  answered  quickly ;  "  and  if  any  loved 
me  sufficiently  to  desire  a  home  with  me  still,  they  might  stay, 
and  I  would  pay  them  fair  wages  for  their  time  and  labor. 
Those  who  preferred  to  go,  should  be  provided  Avith  homes 
wherever  they  chose  to  live.  I  would  give  them  houses  in 
which  to  dwell ;  lands  to  cultivate,  and  implements  to  Avork 
them.  They  should  then  have  schools  and  churches  of  their 
own,  and  the  opportunity  for  becoming  reasoning,  self-depend- 
ent beings.  The  poor  creatures  haA^e  no  privileges,  let  those 
Avho  Avill,  make  assertions  to  the  contrary.  A  negro  cannot 
hold  property ;  he  cannot  vote ;  he  is  not  alloAved  even  to  read 
and  Avrite,  there  being  rigid  laAVs  against  it.  For  him  ties  are 
but  names,  Avithout  meaning,  sa\'e  in  his  own  poor,  tortured 
heart.  Marriage  is  but  a  farce,  the  proceeds  of  which  go  to 
SAvell  the  size  of  the  master's  purse.  Wife  and  children  are 
torn  from  him  as  mercilessly  as  you  Avould  separate  animals. 
He  cannot  call  the  blood  which  courses  in  his  veins  his  OAvn, 
much  less  that  Avhich  floAvs  in  the  veins  of  his  children.  It  is 
subject  to  the  will  of  any  cruel  monster  Avho  may  choose  to 
let  it,  until  the  wretched  victim  faints  from  its  loss,  and  per- 
haps, even  dies ! " 

"HoAV  is  it  that  you  are  so  bitterly  opposed  to  slavery, 
OAvning  slaA-es,  and  reared  from  infancy  in  the  midst  of  them?" 
asked  Doctor  Early  with  much  curiosity.     "  Mr.  Harmon  cer- 


284  A    STORY    OF   THE   GEEAT   REBELLION. 

tainly  never  taught  you  to  view  it  in  such  a  light ;  and  if  there 
are  others  in  this  countrj^  who  do,  I  am  ignorant  of  it.  Among 
the  young  especially,  the  love  of  power  is  so  great,  none  will 
stop  to  question  whether  it  be  right  or  wrong.  Slavery  is  the 
foundation  of  family  pride,  and  a  man's  pretensions  to  aristoc- 
racy are  regulated  according  to  the  number  of  negroes  he  owns." 

Mrs.  Passiver's  hands  shaded  her  eyes,  but  her  full  lip  curled. 

"  Yes,  we  have,  indeed,  fallen  so  low !  It  is  the  natural  re- 
sult, however,  of  such  deeds  as  ours.  AYe  send  our  vessels 
to  a  distant  shore,  and  steal  the  people  from  their  native  lands 
to  bear  them  here  in  spite  of  cries  and  prayers  and  groans, 
that  we  may  lay  our  burthens  upon  their  shoulders.  "We  cry 
that  their  ignorance  renders  this  bondage  a  blessing  to  them, 
by  giving  them  the  Hght  of  divine  truth.  But  when  we  teach 
them  of  God,  we  take  greater  care  to  teach  them  the  necessity 
of  obedience  to  men,  who  have  constituted  themselves  their 
masters.  Every  word  that  seems  to  justify  the  master,  falls 
glibly  upon  the  ear  of  the  man ;  but  not  that  his  soul  may  be 
benefited  by  it — only  as  a  rein  of  power  by  which  he  may  be 
driven  with  more  ease  in  his  chains.  If  we  so  much  desired 
to  enlighten  the  African  race  to  God's  beautiful  truths,  why 
did  we  not  send  to  them  faithful  ministers,  as  we  have  to 
Burmah  and  other  places,  instead  of  countenancing  that  fear- 
ful trade  which  has  entailed  a  deadly  curse  upon  us  I  You 
will  say  that  we  have  sent  missionaries  to  Africa,  and  that  the 
slave-trade  has  been  suspended,  but  these  come  too  late  to 
save  us  from  the  consequences.  Already  we  are  beginning 
openly  and  excitably  to  talk  of  State  rights,  with  secession 
in  view,  and  the  result  will  be  a  deep  and  deadly  plunge  into 
civil  war." 

"You  really  think  that  we  shall  have  war?     Why?" 

"I  cannot  tell  precisely;  but  you  know  that  woman's  in- 
stinct is  sometimes  better  than  man's  judgment.  Our  hot- 
blooded  southern  politicians  ha\e  begun  the  work  of  spread- 
ing dissatisfaction  throughout  the  country,  and  are  constitut- 
ing themselves  leaders  in  the  contemplated  faction.     A  con- 


ANOTHER   STARTLING   INCIDENT.  285 

fliet  is  inevitable,  and  whatever  we  may  think,  wc  arc  not 
strono-  enough  to  win.  Secession  would  be  wrong,  and  will 
not  be  tolerated." 

"I  advise  you  not  to  talk  this  way  to  everybody,"  said  the 
Doctor  gravely.  "If  your  predictions  should  be  realized,  it 
might  go  rather  hard  with  you,  unless  I  have  mistaken  your 
character.  With  your  present  views,  if  you  make  them  known, 
and  any  subsequent  actions  which  might  be  construed  against 
you,  the  day  may  come  when  you  may  know  what  it  will  cost 
to  declare  yourself  independent." 

Astrea  searched  his  face  earnestly. 

"  Then  there  is  more  than  even  I  imagined,  afloat.  Tell  me 
frankly.  Doctor  Early,  just  what  our  people  are  doing." 

"  No,  my  child,  I  will  make  no  predictions,  and  take  no  steps 
to  spread  the  evil.  Time  will  develop  purposes  fast  enough, 
and  I  am  too  old  to  embroil  myself  in  such  difficulties.  As 
for  you,  there  is  plenty  now  in  this  little  heart  and  brain  to 
wear  you  out,  without  any  addition.  Be  quiet,  and  if  the 
time  comes  when  it  is  necessary  to  take  a  position  on  either 
side,  choose  the  one  which  you  conscientiously  believe  to  be 
right,  and  give  all  your  strength  to  the  maintenance  of  your 
choice.     Of  course  you  know  your  husband's  views?" 

"  Mr.  Passiver  avoids  speaking  to  me  on  these  subjects,  and 
will  not  do  it  in  my  presence,  if  he  can  help  it.  Still  I  know  per- 
fectly well  what  his  course  would  be,"  and  she  sighed  heavily. 

Several  conversations  similar  to  the  above,  took  place  dur- 
ing her  illness ;  but  when  Doctor  Early  ceased  to  come,  though 
she  thought  much  upon  the  subject,  no  word  ever  passed  her 
lips  that  could  indicate  the  presence  of  an  idea  concerning  the 
political  events  of  the  times.  In  a  few  days  she  was  able  to 
drive  out,  and  then  as  she  felt  herself  becoming  stronger,  be- 
gan to  think  about  resuming  her  visits  to  the  quarters,  when 
another  startling  incident  occurred  to  completely  cut  her  off 
from  her  designs.  She  was  sitting  by  her  window  in  the  mel- 
low moonlight,  ffazinjj  at  the  lone;,  narrow  stretch  of  meadow 
lands  below,  when  her  glance  fell  upon  a  figure  which  ad- 


286  A   STORY   OF   THE    GREAT   REBELLION. 

vanced  slowly,  stooping  and  dodging  with  evei'y  indication  of 
fear.  The  fio-ure  followed  the  course  of  a  little  windinjj  brook 
until  it  crossed  the  road  leading  to  Florence,  then  left  it,  and 
came  directly  to  the  gate  which  it  opened,  and  closed  carefully. 
The  nearer  approach  proved  it  to  be  the  figure  of  a  man,  and 
he  came  up  the  graveled  walk,  turned  abruptly  into  the  shrub- 
bery, and  made  his  way  to  her  window,  pausing  beneath  it. 
Astrea's  heart  beat  wildly.  What  was  coming  next  to  tor- 
ment her?  Evidently  something  unusual  had  happened,  and 
she  dreaded  to  hear  it. 

"Missis,"  called  a  voice  softly,  "oh,  missis."  She  threw 
the  window  open  with  as  little  noise  as  possible. 

"Who  is  there?" 

"It's  me — Eufe,  ye  knows  Rufus,  missis?" 

"My  poor  boy,  Avhat  brings  you  here?" 

"Ise  come  to  say  good-bye  before  I- goes  away,"  and  his 
voice  was  husky. 

"  Going  away,  Rufus  I  you  cannot!  you  dare  not  I  Oh,  boy, 
they  would  kill  you!     Don't  make  the  attempt." 

"Must  do  it,  missis.  Ise  stood  all  I  can  stand,  an'  I  jes'  as 
soon  die  tryin'  ter  sabe  myself,  as  ter  be  beat  ter  def  by  inches. 
Dey's  done  swor'd  ter  whip  me  to-morrer,  an'  I  aint  goin'  ter 
take  It,  'cause  I  don't  'serve  it." 

"What  did  you  do  that  made  them  threaten  you?" 

"Massa  Ormand,  he  found  me  cryin',  an'  wanted  to  know 
what's  de  matter  wid  me.  I  couldn't  help  it  missis,  fur  it  was 
de  trufe,  an'  I  telled  him  'twas  about  Katy  who's  done  dead, 
an'  my  heart's  broke.  Den  he  went  into  a'  awful  rage,  an' 
swor'd  he'd  skin  me  alive.  Massa,  he's  down  dar  now,  an'  1 
saw  'em  dribe  a  great  big  stake  in  de  groun'  whar  dey  said 
dey's  goin'  ter  tie  up  all  de  bad  niggahs  for  ter  whip  'em,  an' 
de  fus  chance  I  got,  I  slipped  off  ter  say  good-bye  ter  my  dear 
missis.     I  mus'  go  now,  'fore  he  comes  home." 

"Eufus." 

The  moon  streamed  upon  the  beautiful,  resolute  face  of  his 
young  mistress  as  she  leaned  from  the  window. 


A    STEP   TOWARDS   FREEDOM.  287 

"Weil,  missis?" 

"You  are  sure  you  are  telling  me  the  truth?" 

"Berry  shure." 

"  Then  conic  around  to  the  north  side  of  the  house  and  hide 
yourself  in  the  shrubbery  there  until  you  hear  tine  cellar  door 
open.  I  intend  to  hide  you  in  the  house  until  I  can  get  a 
chance  to  send  you  North.  If  I  let  you  go,  they  will  catch  you 
and  bring  you  back  again — then  God  help  you,  for  I  could  not ! " 

"But  missis  '11  git  inter  trouble." 

"Never  mind,  I  can  take  care  of  myself.     Do  as  I  tell  you." 

"I  will,  Miss  'Genia." 

He  crept  softly  away,  and  she  closed  the  window,  thankful 
that  he  had  gone  before  any  one  discovered  him  in  conversa- 
tion with  her.  It  was  not  late,  and  the  servants  had  not  been 
long  enough  in  bed  to  have  fallen  asleep,  but  with  the  neces- 
sity of  immediate  action  before  her,  she  dared  not  wait,  lest 
Mr.  Passiver  should  return  and  discover  the  fugitive.  He 
had  not  omitted  the  now  usual  ceremony  of  locking  her  doors 
before  going  out,  yet  that  did  not  disturb  her.  With  the  key 
that  never  left  her  possession,  she  swiftly  passed  through  all 
the  rooms,  pausing  only  to  look  through  the  gallery  window, 
if  perchance  her  husband  might  be  returning.  No  sign  being 
visible,  she  stole  through  the  hall  into  the  kitchen,  and  through 
that  to  the  cellar  below,  which  she  soon  opened  and  admitted 
Rufus. 

"You  must  sit  here  in  one  comer,  perfectly  still,  until  I 
come  for  you,"  she  whispered  as  she  put  out  her  little  hand  to 
guide  the  trembling  fugitive  to  his  place.  "  Trust  me,  Rufus, 
and  if  it  is  in  mortal  power  to  save  you,  I  will  do  it." 

"  God  bless  ye,  missis !  " 

"I  hope  he  will,"  she  answered  in  an  unsteady  voice,  as  she 
withdrew  her  hand  and  groped  her  way  back  to  the  stairs. 
'I  hope  he  will  bless  me  in  allowing  me  to  free  at  least  one 
Boul  from  bondage,"  she  added  mentally,  as  she  mounted  the 
stairs.  In  a  few  moments  she  had  safely  regained  her  own 
room,  and  threw  herself  upon  the  bed  to  think,  and  plan  what 


288  A   STORY   OF   THE    GREAT   REBELLION. 

ought  to  be  done  next.  The  most  feasible  plan,  seemed  to 
center  upon  the  attic  for  a  hiding-place  at  present.  Having 
determined  upon  that,  she  immediately  stole  forth  to  carry 
such  food  as  he  might  need,  and  some  blankets  to  make  him  a 
bed.  While  the  search  was  being  made,  which  was  certain, 
as  soon  as  it  was  known  he  was  gone,  she  might  find  time  to 
make  the  supply  more  liberal.  Carefully  keeping  watch  of 
the  river  for  her  husband,  she  made  several  journeys  to  the 
attic,  and  succeeded  in  conveying  everything  that  was  neces- 
sary. By  the  time  he  came  back,  she  had  made  all  her  arrange- 
ments, and  was  snugly  ensconced  in  bed.  He  did  not  pause  to 
enter,  but  after  listening  for  a  moment  at  the  door,  went  up 
stairs  with  a  weary  tread  unusual  to  him.  She  only  gave 
him  time  to  retire,  when  she  stole  from  her  room  and  with  a 
wax  taper  to  guide  them,  that  he  might  not  stumble  in  the 
darkness  over  strange  objects,  descended  to  the  cellar  and 
brought  Rufas  up  by  the  back  stairway  to  the  attic.  Thrust- 
ing him  into  it,  she  bade  him  keep  still,  whatever  happened, 
and  never  fear ;  then  leaving  him  the  taper,  locked  the  small 
door  and  hastened  back  to  her  own  room. 

If  Astrea  had  known  anxiety  before,  it  was  doubled  now, 
when  she  had  taken  such  a  responsibility  into  her  own  hands. 
Thinking  over  it,  kept  her  awake  until  the  dawn  of  day. 
Then  she  fell  into  a  troubled  slumber,  from  which  she  was 
awakened  by  a  fearful  scream,  proceeding  from  the  room 
directly  above  her  own,  and  followed  by  a  great  confusion  all 
over  the  house.  Her  first  thought  was  of  Rufus,  and  that  he 
had  in  some  way  betrayed  himself;  but  she  had  locked  the 
door  upon  him,  and  charged  him  earnestly  to  remain  quiet. 
Surely  he  could  not  have  become  frightened  and  disobeyed 
her.  Had  her  door  been  opened  she  would  have  rushed  out 
to  ascertain  the  cause  of  the  alarm,  but  she  had  presence  of 
mind  sufficient  to  restrain  her  from  the  use  of  her  key,  which 
would  have  exposed  her  at  once.  The  half  hour  which  suc- 
ceeded before  any  one  came  near,  seemed  an  age  of  suspense. 
Finally  Mr.  Passiver  burst  into  the  room,  foaming  with  passion. 


NOCTURNAL   MYSTERIES   AGAIN.  289 

"I  •will  know — I  ivill!  Avhat  has  got  into  this  house  to  turn 
it  upside  down  with  its  deviltries!  What!  am  I  to  be  defied 
under  my  own  roof,  and  subjected  to  all  sorts  of  tricks?  Look 
at  my  hair,  madam!  just  look  at  my  hair,  and  sec  the  shocking 
condition  it  is  in !  Every  lock  of  it  will  have  to  be  shaved  off 
close  to  my  head,  before  this  Infernal  wax  can  be  got  out  of  it ! 
Shoe-makers'  wax — all  through !  And  that  is  not  all ;  when  I 
woke  this  morning,  there  I  was,  tied  hand  and  foot,  fast  to  the 
bedstead,  with  strong  ropes,  and  could  not  get  loose  until  they 
came  and  untied  me !  Now,  tell  me  who  It  Is  that  dares  to 
brave  me  in  this  manner!  Woe  be  unto  that  fool-hardy  mortal 
if  I  find  out  who  It  is,  for  life  avIII  not  be  worth  a  straw  I — and 
know  I  will,  by  Heaven!" 

"  How  Is  it  possible  for  any  body  to  tie  you  without  waking 
you  In  the  operation?"  asked  Mrs.  Passlver,  relieved  in  find- 
ino;  that  Rufus  had  not  been  discovered.  She  had  o-reat  ado 
to  keep  from  laughing,  as  her  husband  stamped  up  and  down 
the  floor  with  his  hair  sticking  out  all  over  his  head  like  the 
quills  of  a  fretfid  porcupine.  Necessity  forced  her  to  control 
her  amusement,  and  assume  the  gravity  she  really  felt  in  a 
considerable  measure.  She  was  as  curious  as  he,  to  know 
who  the  real  perpetrator  coidd  be,  and  was  not  easy  in  know- 
ing that  such  things  were  constantly  occurring  In  the  house, 
without  the  slightest  clue  being  left  behind  by  which  the 
mystery  might  be  solved.  Her  questions  seemed  only  to 
deepen  his  exasperation,  and  a  stool  which  happened  to  come 
in  his  way  at  that  moment,  went  flying  across  the  room  with 
a  crash. 

"  How  ?  Go  up  there  and  you  will  soon  understand !  The 
whole  chamber  is  charged  with  the  odor  of  ether!  That's 
the  way  I  am  treated!  The  infernal  thieves  steal  Into  my 
room,  by  what  means  the  devil  only  knows;  and  then  they 
dose  me  with  ether  while  sleeping,  and  leave  me  tied  fiist  to 
my  bed.     Furies!  won't  I  have  my  revenge  sometime!" 

He  ground  his  teeth  Impotently,  at  the  same  time  attempt- 
ing to  thrust  his  fingers  through  his  hair.  Failing,  from  the 
19 


290  A   STORY   OF   THE   GREAT  EEBELLION. 

state  into  which  it  had  been  rendered  by  the  wax,  he  couid 
endure  no  moi'e,  and  rushed  out  of  the  room  with  a  perfect 
volley  of  oaths.  In  hastily  descending  the  steps,  he  ran 
against  Ormand,  who  was  coming  up  from  the  fields  with  an 
anxious  countenance.  The  young  planter  recovered  himself, 
and  demanded  the  reason  for  his  presence  very  angrily.  Bad, 
and  hardy  as  the  man  was,  he  quailed  before  the  flashing  eyes 
and  passion-inflamed  visage  of  his  master,  dreading  to  impart 
the  news  he  came  to  bring. 

"  Why  don't  you  speak,  and  not  stand  there  staring  at  me 
as  if  I  was  a  ghost?  What  do  you  want  here  this  time  in  the 
morning." 

"I  came  to  say  that  one  of  the  boys  had  cut  sticks  an'  left." 

"You  don't  mean  to  say  that  he  has  run  away?" 

"  Yes,  sir,  that  an'  nothing  else." 

"Now,  by  the  Lord  Harry,  things  have  come  to  a  pretty 
pass !  One  of  my  slaves  gone !  We'll  fetch  him  back  quicker 
than  lightning,  and  then  make  an  example  of  him.  Which 
one  is  it?" 

"Rufus." 

"That  rascal?  Whew!  went  to  escape  a  thrashing.  Aha! 
my  fine  fellow !  we'll  see  how  far  you  will  get  before  we  come 
down  on  you!     When  did  he  go,  Ormand?" 

"Last  night,  I  reckon." 

"Have  you  made  any  search  for  tracks?" 

"Yes,  sir.  I  missed  him  when  the  horn  sounded  fur  the 
hands  to  come  out,  an'  as  soon  as  the  others  was  set  to  work, 
I  besan  to  hunt  fur  signs.  All  I  could  find  was  some  tracks 
on  the  banks  of  the  river,  an'  if  he  swum  acrost,  he  must  be 
hid  in  the  woods  over  thar ;  but  I  took  a  skiff  an'  went  over, 
an'  couldn't  find  no  tracks  thar." 

"  He  must  be  there,  however ;  he  could  not  swim  far,  and 
that  seems  the  most  likely  hiding-place  he  could  find.  We 
will  try  ourselves,  to-day,  and  if  we  fail  to  find  him,  will  get 
some  help  to-morrow — and  such  help  as  can't  fail." 

"D'  ye  mean  dogs?" 


BLOOD-nOUXDS    IN   SERVICE.  291 

"Yes." 

The  man's  eyes  glistened  with  a  brutal  delight. 

"That's  the  talk,  but  I  didn't  'spose  you'd  want  to  use 
dogs." 

"  Why  not  ?  Every  other  planter  in  the  South  will  use 
them  when  it  comes  to  a  pinch — why  should  not  I?  Things 
seem  to  be  culminating,  and  there  will  be  a  grand  explosion 
pretty  soon.  I  can't  stand  it,  and  I'll  show  everybody  that  I 
am  master  at  Passiver  Hall,  and  on  the  Passiver  estate." 

"Hope  nothin'  else  hain't  gone  wrong,  sir,"  began  the  over- 
seer deprecatmgly ;  "leastways,  if  it  has,  I  hain't  been  to 
blame." 

"When  I  accuse  you,  it  will  be  high  time  to  deny.  You 
had  better  go  back  to  the  fields  now,  and  make  preparations 
to  begin  the  search.     In  the  course  of  an  hour  I  will  join  you."" 

ISIr.  Ormand  was  obliged  to  obey,  and  went  doggedly  back 
to  the  fields.  His  master's  anger  and  curtness  had  given  him 
a  very  uneasy  sensation  with  regard  to  his  own  welfare,  and 
he  knew  that  he  would  not  dare  to  trifle  with  him.  At  the 
same  time,  he  was  averse,  as  bullies  usually  are,  to  having  any 
man  talk  to  him  with  such  an  air  of  authoritative  independ- 
ence, and  for  some  time,  Mr.  Passiver  had  shown  an  utter  care- 
lessness of  his  feelings  which  galled  him  sorely.  If  he  could 
not  retaliate  openly,  he  could  at  least  give  him  some  trouble, 
and  he  resolved  to  do  it.  While  he  was  sulkily  plodding  his 
way  to  the  quarters,  Mr.  Passiver  returned  to  his  wife  tri- 
umphantly. The  last  event  had  exceeded  the  night's  adven- 
ture, in  importance,  and  he  began  to  grow  cooler  over  the 
prospect  of  tangible  satisfaction. 

"So,  one  of  your  boys  has  taken  it  into  his  head  to  run 
away !  How  do  you  like  that  and  the  prospect  of  seeing  him 
flogged  as  an  example?" 

"I  would  not  witness  such  a  thing." 

"  I  intend  that  you  shall,  so  that  you  may  see  the  need  of 
teachinjj  them  sounder  doctrines  in  the  future." 

"He  will  have  to  be  caught  first." 


292  A   STORY   OF   THE   GREAT   REBELLION. 

"  That  will  be  easy  enough.  If  we  do  not  find  him  to-day, 
we'll  try  the  blood-hounds  on  him  to-morrow,  and  see  if  they 
won't  bring  him  to  light.  I'll  hunt  the  whole  State  of  Ala- 
bama but  I'll  ferret  the  rascal  out  at  last." 

"  In  the  meantime,  what  do  you  propose  to  do  about  these 
mysterious  nocturnal  visits?" 

"  I  will  let  that  matter  stand  over  for  the  present,  as  it  may 
take  some  time  to  get  at  the  bottom  of  it.  The  first  and  fore- 
most thing  to  be  done,  is  to  find  Kufus — after  that  every  other 
perplexing  thmg  shall  he  made  straight." 

^Vhat  to  do  now,  was  more  than  she  could  divine ;  our  her- 
oine was  in  a  straight,  with  no  apparent  means  for  escape. 
A  search  through  the  house  for  the  cause  of  the  disturbances 
would  have  been  disastrous  to  her  schemes,  and  place  the  poor 
fugitive  within  the  power  of  the  destroyers.  That  immediate 
danger  having  been  averted,  the  one  which  was  to  follow  was 
equally,  if  not  more  terrible.  No  power  on  earth  could  save 
him  if  the  blood-hounds  were  put  upon  his  track,  and  to  have 
those  creatures  rushing  through  her  house,  tearing  the  boy  to 
pieces  before  her  very  eyes,  would  be  horrible !  How  could 
she  save  him?     Get  him  away  she  must^  but  how? 

Mr.  Passiver  had  breakfasted  hastily  and  departed,  leaving 
her  in  an  agony  which  surpassed  words.  She  walked  back 
and  forth  through  the  rooms  with  an  intensity  of  feeling  al- 
most akin  to  despair,  as  no  chance  of  escape  seemed  to  present 
itself.  She  mig-ht  o-et  him  out  of  the  attic,  but  where  could  she 
send  him  that  they  could  not  follow  ?  She  was  in  danger  of 
exposure  herself,  but  she  cared  httle  for  that.  They  would 
trace  him  beneath  her  window,  then  to  the  cellar  and  up  stairs ; 
and  it  would  be  difficult,  if  she  tried,  to  convince  her  husband 
that  she  had  not  done  it.  She  could  not  convince  him,  for  the 
same  dogs,  if  put  on  her  trail  would  trace  her  to  her  room, 
and  fasten  with  their  panting  breath,  proofs  of  her  deeds 
upon  her. 

In  the  midst  of  her  reflections.  Doctor  Early  stepped  in 
upon  his  patient,  and  found  her  pacing  the  room  like  a  caged 


AID    FOR   THE   HELPLESS.  293 

lioness.  Instantly  she  resolved  to  confide  in  him,  and  ask  for 
help  in  her  dithculty,  lie  listened  while  she  rapidly  recounted 
the  events  of  the  past  night,  wearing  a  very  troubled  expression. 

"  Oh,  my  child,  you  are  rash  indeed,"  he  expostulated  when 
she  had  finished.  "  Xow  it  will  be  impossible  for  you  to  con- 
ceal your  mode  of  exit  from  the  house,  and  at  the  same  time, 
you  have  lain  yourself  open  to  greater  abuses  than  those 
which  you  have  been  made  to  suffer  already.  You  ought  to 
have  sent  him  back,  and  told  him  to  bear  his  lot  patiently." 

"  Doctor,  you  cannot  mean  it !  vSend  him  back  to  be  flayed, 
as  old  Jacob  was,  because  God  has  created  him  with  loyal 
blood  in  his  veins — because  he  dared  to  love  his  poor  wife  so 
much,  that  her  loss  left  him  with  a  hopeless  heart-ache !  I 
will  die,  sooner  than  see  him  punished  for  the  tears  he  shed. 
It  is  cruel,  inhuman!  and  I  wiU  save  him  if  it  is  in  mortal 
power!" 

"I  trust  that  you  may  be  able  to  do  It.  Yes,  I  will  even 
help  you,  if  I  can,  though  you  know  the  risks  I  run.  If  I 
fail,  it  will  ruin  me  throughout  the  whole  country,  and  I  shall 
have  to  leave  it.  I  am  not  rich,  and  depend  upon  my  practice 
for  a  living.  If  I  was  a  young  man,  it  would  make  little  dif- 
ference ;  as  it  is,  the  matter  becomes  serious." 

Mrs.  Passiver  wrung  her  hands. 

"I  know  it,  but  what  shall  I  do!  There  is  no  one  to  help 
me  if  you  do  not,  and  lite  is  at  stake !  God  help  me,  but  I 
know  there  is  no  hope  if  they  get  hold  of  him !  Too  much 
blood  has  been  spilled  already  for  me  to  feel  in  the  least  safe. 
Doctor,  I  cannot  let  him  be  taken.  Help  me,  and  as  long  as 
I  have  a  penny  upon  earth,  you  shall  not  want." 

"I  will  help  you,  my  child,  without  money.  There  must 
be  no  pecuniary  interests  mentioned  between  us,  or  the  sanctity 
of  our  deeds  Is  destroyed  forever.  No,  come  what  will,  I  can 
bear  the  consequences  of  my  o^vn  actions,  and  I  choose  to  help 
you  in  your  dilemma.  Perhaps  you  will  need  a  shelter  for 
yourself  ere  the  matter  ends,  for  he  will  find  out  that  you  have 
aided  in  the  boy's  escape." 


294  A   STOKY   OF   THE   GREAT  EEBELLION. 

"  Yes,  I  do  not  expect  to  be  able  to  conceal  that ;  it  will  not 
make  mucli  difference,  though,  when  once  he  is  safe.  I  could 
brave  a  whole  army,  then,  and  never  fear  for  myself." 

"Why,  because  you  have  always  escaped  without  hurt?" 

Astrea  blushed  crimson. 

"Ah,  my  child,  why  try  to  deceive  me  so  persistently?  I 
know  too  much  not  to  see  that  you  are  striving  to  hide  the 
truth." 

"I  did  tell  you  the  truth.  Doctor  Early." 

"The  whole  truth?  No,  you  will  not  say  that!  You  fell 
when  he  struck  you,  and  then  refused  to  expose  him.  I  admire 
your  loyalty,  but  at  the  same  time,  you  need  a  friend,  and  if 
I  am  to  be  that  friend,  you  owe  it  to  me  to  make  me  acquainted 
with  all  that  occurs  in  which  you  are  personally  interested. 
If  your  father  was  here,  I  should  make  no  such  demands  upon 
your  confidence,  and  leave  you  to  his  care ;  as  he  is  not,  I 
dare  not  stand  aloof  and  see  that  man  kill  you,  without  lifting 
a  saving  arm.  AVhen  Mr.  Harmon  returns,  he  will  thank  me 
for  it." 

"  Dear  father,  so  far  away  while  his  only  child  is  in  such 
terrible  trouble,"  and  her  tears  began  to  flow  fast.  "  Still,  I 
am  glad,"  she  added,  "for  it  would  break  his  heart." 

"Have  you  never  written  to  him  about  it? — never  told  him 
anything?" 

"  Not  one  word,  and  would  not  for  the  world.  Time  enough 
when  he  comes,  to  crush  his  gray  hairs  into  the  grave  by  a 
errief  that  cannot  long-er  be  concealed." 

"  You  are  a  strange  girl — shutting  yourself  out  from  every- 
body, and  striving  to  bear  your  griefs  alone." 

"It  is  my  duty,  since  few  could  help  me,  and  might  onlv 
add  to  my  burthen  by  injudicious  uses  of  my  confidence. 
Better  to  sacrifice  one's  self  than  to  crush  the  innocent,  who 
love  us  too  dearly  to  know  that  we  suflfer  without  grieving 
for  us.  But  we  must  not  talk  about  such  things  now.  How 
shall  we  manage  with  Eufiis?" 

Doctor  Early  sat  buried  in  thought  for  several  minutes. 


PLANS   FOR   ESCAPE.  295 

"  Do  you  remember  a  little  creek  which  crosses  the  road 
about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  above  here?" 

"Yes;  it  is  where  I  go  to  fish  for  trout." 

"Well,  that  empties  into  the  river  a  Httle  way  above  the 
Hall.     Can  Rufus  swim?" 

"  Rapidly ;  he  is  one  of  the  strongest  and  smartest  boys  on 
the  place." 

"Then  if  you  can  manage  to  get  him  out  of  the  house  to- 
night without  being  seen,  tell  him  to  swim  up  the  river  to  the 
mouth  of  that  creek  and  enter  it  without  landing,  so  as  to  leave 
no  trail  for  the  dogs.  The  Avater  is  not  deep,  and  he  can  easily 
wade  along  the  course  of  the  stream  until  he  reaches  the  road. 
There  he  must  wait  for  me  without  leaving  the  water,  and  as 
I  drive  along,  I  will  stop  in  the  middle  of  the  creek  and  take 
him  up  in  my  carriage.  He  must  keep  himself  well  in  the 
shadow  of  the  overhanging;  boughs  until  he  hears  me  give  a 
low  whistle,  then  come  out,  and  while  I  water  my  horse,  get 
into  the  carriage.  I  am  going  down  the  river  some  twelve 
miles,  to  see  an  old  woman  who  has  dislocated  her  leg,  and  the 
young  sprig  of  a  doctor,  who  has  been  attending  her,  will  let 
her  die  for  want  of  a  little  common  sense.  When  I  come  back 
I  will  let  it  be  after  dark  purposely,  so  that  I  may  reach  the 
creek  about  ten  o'clock." 

'•  That  seems  a  splendid  plan,  and  now  that  you  have  men- 
tioned it,  I  remember  that  he  followed  the  bed  of  the  creek 
last  night,  and  must  have  thought  of  the  dogs  at  the  time, 
though  I  did  not.  Wait  a  little  while,  and  I  will  get  a  suit 
of  Mr.  Passiver's  old  clothes  for  you  to  put  in  the  carriage." 

"What  for?" 

"  Rufus ;  you  don't  want  him  to  enter  it  dripping  wet.  You 
can  take  the  clothes  with  you  now,  and  I  will  tell  him  to  sink 
his  in  the  river  by  rolling  them  around  a  stone,  at  the  mouth 
of  the  creek.  He  can  don  the  others  when  safe  Avith  you,  and 
they  will  do  him  some  good.  You  will  need  money  for  him. 
Doctor,  and  you  must  take  this  to  provide  for  his  comfort," 
ehe  concluded  by  slipping  a  well  filled  purse  into  his  hand. 


296  A    STORY    OF    THE    GREAT    REBELLION. 

He  did  not  refuse,  since  It  was  not  for  himself,  and  put  the 
purse  into  his  pocket,  saying: 

"  If  I  can  use  it  for  him,  I  will  do  so ;  if  not,  it  shall  be  re- 
turned to  you." 

Soon  after  this,  he  drove  oiF  down  the  river,  leaving  Astrea 
to  the  completion  of  their  hazardous  plans.  Mr.  Passiver  did 
not  return  to  dinner,  and  nothing  was  heard  from  the  search 
until  tea-time,  when  he  came  home  with  three  great,  rough 
fellows,  whom  Ormand  had  sent  for  at  his  master's  command. 
They  were  professional  negro-hunters,  and  looked  fitted  for 
their  calling,  with  their  coarse,  ruffianly  manners  and  uncouth 
faces.  Astrea  sickened  with  disgust  when  summoned  to  do 
the  honors  of  her  table  for  such  guests,  and  saw  her  husband 
treating  them  with  the  politeness  due  to  better  men.  Had  he 
known  her  comphcity,  and  desired  to  punish  her  for  the  part 
she  was  playing,  he  could  not  have  done  it  in  a  more  effectual 
manner,  as  he  seated  them,  after  having  gone  through  with  a 
formal  introduction,  and  began  to  talk  in  his  most  pleasant  and 
kindly  manner. 

"  My  dear,  these  are  the  gentlemen  of  whom  you  have  often 
heard,  and  who  are  the  best  men  in  the  whole  country,  since 
they  are  the  guardians  of  our  highest  interests.  If  anybody 
can  find  that  ungrateful  boy  of  yours,  they  certainly  will  do  so, 
and  will,  therefore,  be  entitled  to  your  highest  conslderatioii." 

She  inwardly  writhed  under  this  speech,  remembering  the 
poor,  trembhng  creature  lying  above  them,  unconscious  of 
what  was  to  come.  He  was  totally  unprepared,  however,  for 
the  calm  and  even  smiling  face  she  turned  to  them,  asking  the 
one  nearest  to  her  if  he  did  not  find  his  mode  of  life  very  ex- 
citing. 

"  Tole'ble,"  was  the  answer.  "  At  fust  a  man  feels  a  good 
'eal  excited,  but  he  soon  gits  used  to  it,  an'  finds  it  ruther  tire- 
some. Once'n  awhile  a  smart  chap  comes  along  that  knows 
how  to  dodge  purty  well,  an'  then  thar's  some  fun  in  a  chase. 
Ginerally,  howsomever,  niggers  is  very  stupid  an'  can't  hold 
out  long.     How's  that  boy  a'  youm?" 


SUCCESSFUL   NEGRO   STRATEGY.  297 

"Really,  I  cannot  say  how  he  will  manage  to  effect  his  es- 
cape ;  but  I  should  not  be  surprised  if  it  were  to  take  you 
some  time  to  catch  him." 

At  this  moment  Nettie  came  in  and  whispered  something  in 
her  ear.     She  rose  hastily. 

"  Excuse  me  for  a  moment,  gentlemen,  my  child  needs  my 
care,"  and  disappeared  within  the  adjoining  room.  The  mo- 
ment she  closed  the  door  behind  her,  Nettie  caught  her  arm 
whispering  hurriedly : 

"Miss  'Genia,  don't  be  'fraid,  an'  don't  touch  the  wine  when 
it  comes  on  the  table.  I  heerd  marster  order  some  put  in  ice, 
an'  I  fixed  one  bottle  of  it  so's  to  make  'em  all  sleep  good. 
It  won't  hurt  'em." 

"Nettie,  ai*e  you  crazy,  girl!     You  might  kill  them!" 

"  No  danger ;  trust  me  missis ;  I  know's  all  'bout  everything, 
an'  I'm  bound  to  keep  'em  out  o'  your  way  to-night.  If  I 
don't,  poor  Rufe  '11  die  to-morrer.  Now  go  back,  please,  an' 
let  'em  do  their  wust.  Tell  'em  I  got  skeer'd  an'  thought 
Miss  Lily'd  swallered  a  button,  if  they  ask  you  what's  the 
matter.     I  did  think  so  awhile  ago,  but  she  hadn't." 

Mrs.  Passiver  returned  to  the  tea-table,  looking  a  little 
flushed. 

"Pray,  what  was  the  matter,  my  love?"  asked  Mr.  Passi- 
ver, anxiously. 

"  Only  a  fright  of  Nettie's.  She  says  she  thought  Lillian 
had  swallowed  a  button,  but  was  mistaken." 

"Niggers  does  love  to  git  up  a  row,"  remarked  one  of  the 
guests  who  had  not  before  spoken.  "They're  allers  seein' 
things  whar  they  aint  to  be  seen,  an'  makin'  the  biggest  moun- 
tains out'n  the  littlest  mole-hills.  I  git  so  cussed,  all-fired  mad 
at  'em  sometimes,  I  could  knock  thar  tarnel  heads  oflf." 

Even  Mr.  Passiver  winced  at  this  speech,  glancing  furtively 
•>it  his  wife  who  answered  in  a  very  quiet  manner : 

"  I  believe  it  belongs  to  the  race  to  magnify  everything  into 
importance,  because  of  their  enthusiastic  and  imaginative 
temperaments.     They  love  excitement  because  it  is  a  relief  to 


298  A   STORY   OF   THE   GREAT   REBELLIOX. 

the  severe  monotony  of  their  lives.  They  have  not  the  con- 
stant changes  and  interests  of  the  whites,  who  can  find  enough 
of  change  in  the  world  without  seeking  to  magnify  events." 

Her  guests  sat  staring  at  her  in  unfeigned  wonder  to  hear 
her  using  what  appeared  to  them,  "big  words,"  many  of  which 
were  Greek  to  them.  The  timely  entrance  of  a  boy  with  the 
wine,  covered  the  smile  which  she  could  not  quite  suppress, 
and  gave  her  an  excuse  for  leaving  the  table.  They  remained 
talking  and  drinking  for  some  time,  and  Nettie  who  was  hover- 
ing round,  peeping  occasionally  through  the  doors,  saw  that 
Mr.  Passiver  filled  his  own  glass  more  than  once,  from  the 
important  bottle,  while  he  urged  the  others  frequently  to 
drink,  until  it  was  empty.  It  was  not  his  habit  to  drink  much 
wine,  and  she  knew  it,  at  the  same  time  guessing  with  a 
shrewdness  for  which  no  one  would  have  given  her  credit, 
that  his  excitement,  weariness,  and  desire  to  please  his  tools 
by  appearmg  to  stand  more  upon  an  equal  footing  with  them, 
would  prove  a  suflSciently  reasonable  excuse  for  an  unusual 
indulgence.  To  Astrea's  infinite  relief,  they  were  ready  to 
retire  very  soon  after  tea,  and  were  soon  by  the  watchful 
Nettie  reported  asleep,  under  the  effects  of  the  drugged  wine. 
Had  she  been  less  anxious  on  the  fugitive's  account,  it  would 
have  been  impossible  to  have  tolerated  a  thing  of  this  kind  in 
her  house,  and  planned  by  her  own  servant.  The  case  was 
an  extreme  one,  however,  and  required  extreme  measures, 
which  she  was  forced  to  accept  for  the  present  without  ques- 
tioning. Taking  advantage  of  Nettie's  stratagem,  she  hastily 
brought  Rufus  from  the  attic  by  way  of  the  rear  entrance  to 
the  hall,  and  gave  him  instructions  how  to  act.  Fortunately 
the  moon  had  not  yet  risen,  and  by  the  dim  starlight  it  was 
impossible  to  discover  who  they  were,  had  any  one  seen  them 
as  they  stood  on  the  lower  steps  of  the  flight  in  the  moment 
of  parting.  They  did  not  dare  to  speak  aloud,  but  her  tears 
fell  fast  upon  his  head  as  he  seized  her  hand  and  pressed  it  to 
his  quivering  lips  in  a  mute  farewell. 

"  God  bless  you,  Rufus,"  she  said  stooping  to  his  ear.  "Put 


PREPARING    FOR   THE    BLOOD-HOUNDS.  299 

your  trust  in  Him,  and  never  forget  to  do  right.  Sometime 
we  may  meet  again  on  earth — if  not — the  Heavens  are  open 
to  those  who  choose  to  enter." 

"  We's  shure  to  meet  dar,"  was  the  low,  husky  reply.  "  Oh, 
missis,  I  hopes  no  trouble  '11  come  to  you,  an'  I'll  pray  fur  ye 
wid  all  my  soul — you's  so  good  to  a  poor  niggah  dat's  got  no 
odder  frens!" 

"  Hush !  Go  now,  quickly,  and  remember  all  I  have  told 
you." 

He  lowered  himself  into  the  water  without  noise,  and  swam 
away.  In  a  moment  she  had  lost  sight  of  him,  and  ran  back 
into  the  house.  Nettie  was  in  the  hall  with  a  huge  bucket 
and  scrubbing  brush. 

"  Why,  what  are  you  doing,  child  ?  " 

"AVashing  the  steps;  they'll  be  dry  before  mornin',  an' 
nobody '11  see  what  I've  been  doin'.  When  I've  finished  out- 
side, I'U  wash  the  hall  and  stair  oil-cloths,  and  the  stairs  up 
to  the  attic.  You  go  an'  put  away  the  things.  Miss  'Genia, 
while  I  do  this;  then  I  can  destroy  your  trail  as  well  as  his'n. 
We  mustn't  let  them  dogs  git  inter  the  house." 

Astrea  stood  o-azino-  at  her  in  amazement. 

"I  cannot  imagine  how  you  have  found  out  everything  so 
clearly,  Nettie,"  she  said  in  an  undertone.  The  girl  smiled 
shrcAvdly. 

"  This  chile's  got  eyes,  missis,  an'  they  aint  in  her  head  fur 
nothin' !     I'll  tell  ye  all  about  it  when  the  trouble's  over." 

Her  mistress  left  her  then,  and  went  up  stairs  to  remove  all 
traces  of  what  had  occurred  from  the  attic.  For  hours  the 
girl  toiled  indefatigably,  scrubbing,  or  rather  washing  and 
wiping  every  stair  over  which  Rufus  had  passed,  even  down 
to  the  cellar.  The  cellar  floor  being  damp,  a  row  of  planks 
were  laid  from  the  foot  of  the  stairs  to  the  door.  These,  after 
wiping  with  a  wet  cloth,  she  turned  over;  then  opened  the 
door  and  scrubbed  the  silL  This  done,  the  trail  from  the  cellar 
door  outside  to  the  creek,  was  all  that  remamed.  It  was  after 
twelve  o'clock  before  she  reached  that  M'ith  a  strong  solution 


300  A    STORY   OF   THE    GREAT  REBELLION. 

of  salt,  into  which  she  dijjped  her  brush  and  drew  it  over  the 
grass  until  thorouglily  wet.  Under  the  window  where  he 
had  stood,  she  poured  a  quantity  of  the  water.  But  here  the 
greatest  difficulty  of  her  task  began.  She  had  seen  Eufus 
leave  the  brook  and  come  under  his  mistress'  window,  and 
had  heard  their  conversation,  but  she  did  not  knoAv  precisely 
how  to  follow  his  trail  through  the  grass  to  the  graveled  walk, 
he  had  dodged  about  so  much  through  the  shrubbery.  She 
did  the  best  she  could,  however,  treating  the  gate  and  latch 
to  a  vigorous  wiping  with  her  drymg  cloth,  dipped  into  the 
salt  water,  then  pouring  the  remainder  over  the  ground  at  the 
outside,  as  if  spilled  accidentally.  She  could  do  nothmg 
further,  and  crept  wearily  back  into  the  house,  to  find  her 
mistress  sitting  upon  her  bed,  looking  very  pale. 

"I  have  crept  two  or  three  times  to  the  doors  of  their 
rooms,  and  cannot  hear  a  sound,"  she  whispered.  "I  am 
afraid  you  have  given  them  too  much." 

Xettie  looked  frightened. 

"I'll  go  an'  see  myself,"  she  said  after  a  moment,  rousing 
up  resolutely. 

"How  will  you  find  out?" 

"  Yery  easy,  if  they  hain't  left  the  keys  in  the  doors  on  the 
inside,"  and  as  she  spoke,  she  drew  a  key  from  her  bosom 
which  she  exhibited  with  a  g-rin  of  delifj-ht.  All  at  once  the 
truth  was  revealed  to  her  mistress. 

"Nettie,  it  is  you  who  have  been  playing  the  ghost!  you 
got  that  key  when  I  sent  you  for  mine." 

"Didn't  ye  never  'spect  it  afore?" 

"  No,  indeed  I  The  thought  never  entered  my  mmd.  Yrhat 
was  your  object  in  such  tricks  as  you  have  been  playing  upon 
your  master?," 

"I  thoujxht  he'd  think  it  a  iudjrment  on  him  for  his  bad  do- 
in's  to  the  darkies,  and  wanted  to  skeer  him.  I  got  a  Httlc 
'fraid  when  he  went  to  huntin'  so,  'round  the  house,  an' 
wouldn't  'a  done  it  any  more  if  it  hadn't  been  fur  last  night. 
"When  I  heard  ye  tell  Eufe  to  go  to  the  suller  door  an'  wait, 


ARTFUL   MANAGEMENT.  301 

I  know'd  what  you's  goin'  to  do,  an'  I  -waited  till  you'd 
done  It ;  then  I  played  them  tricks  on  marstcr.  I  knowcd  ho 
wouldn't  hunt  fur  the  ghost  to-day,  'cause  he'd  be  huntin'  fur 
Eufe,  an'  I  was  sure  that  the  tricks  'd  skeer  all  de  niggers  an' 
keep  'em  out  of  the  way.  That's  mostly  what  I  done  it  fur." 
She  might  have  added  with  truth  that  she  did  it  to  vent 
her  spleen  upon  her  master,  for  she  hated  his  handsome  face 
with  an  intensity  almost  deadly ;  but  she  dared  not  tell  her 
mistress  that.  Astrea  waited  for  her  to  go  up  stairs  and  in- 
vestigate the  condition  of  the  sleepers,  and  in  a  few  minutes 
she  came  back  declaring  that  no  harm  had  been  done,  and 
urged  her  mistress  to  lie  down,  which  she  Avas  glad  to  do,  be- 
ing completely  worn  out.  No  sleep  came  to  her  eyes  that 
night  however,  notwithstanding  her  weariness.  She  could 
only  think  of  Rufus,  and  pray  for  his  escape,  while  that 
thought  was  varied  at  times  with  Nettie's  faithfulness  and 
singularly  artful  management.  She  felt  that  everything  was 
due  to  her  if  she  did  succeed  in  eluding  a  suspicion  of  the 
truth ;  but  it  was  deeply  painful  to  her  to  find  the  girl  so  de- 
ceitful and  full  of  tricks.  There  mij^ht  be  danger  to  those 
who  roused  her  opposition,  for  Nettie  had  a  very  intense  na- 
ture, and  loved  with  a  Avhole-heartedness  that  had  often  struck 
her  as  unusual.  Might  she  not  hate,  as  well,  and  in  her  hatred, 
prove  unscrupulous  ?  These  thoughts  were  calculated  to  ban- 
ish all  hope  of  rest,  which  rose  out  of  this,  and  once  more  she 
watched  the  day  dawn,  with  weary  eyes  and  heavy  heart. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

BLOOD-HOUNDS    AND    HELL-HOUNDS— BAMSHED    FROM 

HOME. 

Everybody  was  astir  at  an  early  hour  of  the  morning, 
eager  for  the  chase  to  begin,  not  even  excepting  the  negroes, 
whose  love  of  excitement  kindled  a  deep  interest  in  the  pro- 
ceedings, while,  at  the  same  time,  they  hoped  that  Rufus  might 
escape  unhurt.  "Wine  was  ordered  upon  the  breakfast  table, 
and  partaken  of  with  high  glee  by  all.  The  stately,  elegant 
Mr.  Passiver,  for  the  time,  was  sunk  to  a  level  with  his  col- 
leagues, and  drank  as  freely  as  they,  so  that  by  the  time  the 
meal  was  ended,  they  were  all  ripe  for  their  unholy  work. 
They  left  the  table  noisily,  and  went  out  with  great  confusion, 
taking  their  way  to  the  quarters  amid  loud  talking  and  laugh- 
ter, in  which  the  young  planter's  voice  was  loudest.  Mrs. 
Passiver  covered  her  face  with  her  hands,  sickened  with  dis- 
gust and  fear.  Soon  after  their  departure,  a  message  came 
from  Doctor  Early,  to  the  effect  that  all  was  safe,  and  his 
charge  hidden  under  his  own  roof.  He  had  a  plan  by  which 
he  would  soon  place  him  beyond  reach  of  capture,  and  bade 
her  be  at  rest.  The  note  was  wrapped  in  a  Httle  package  of 
medicines,  and  as  soon  as  read,  was  immediately  destroyed. 
She  saw  it  bum  upon  the  hearth,  while  glad  tears  coursed 
down  her  cheeks,  and  a  leaden  weight  seemed  rolled  from  her 
heart.  To  be  sure  the  danger  was  not  all  past,  but  the  most 
imminent  cause  for  distress  was  removed,  and  she  confidently 
waited  the  remainder  of  what  was  to  come.     Her  own  part 


THE   NEGEO-HUXTERS    BAFFLED.  303 

miglit  be  discovered  in  the  transaction,  but  they  could  not 
force  her  to  reveal  his  hiding-place,  and  before  they  could  gain 
any  clue  to  it,  the  boy  might  be  safe  beyond  their  reach. 

Tlie  hunt  beo-an  from  Rufus'  cabin  where  the  dosrs  were 
let  loose  upon  his  trail,  and  followed  it  rapidly  to  the  river. 
There  it  was  lost,  and  though  the  banks  upon  both  sides  were 
searched  for  his  landing-place,  no  further  traces  were  dis- 
covered. 

"  Shouldn't  bfi  surprised  if  the  black  rascal  'ad  drownded 
hisself,"  said  Ormand  once  when  they  paused  about  noon, 
wearied  and  heated  with  the  fruitless  search.  He  had  all  day 
indulged  himself  in  like  remarks,  calculated  to  annoy  the 
young  master  whose  cloudy  face  betokened  a  storm  every  mo- 
ment. Mr.  Passiver  answered  him  with  an  oath,  and  a  per- 
emptory order  to  hold  his  tongue  and  cease  prating.  "  He  never 
yet  saw  a  nigger  who  was  not  too  great  a  coward  to  destroy 
his  own  life,"  whereupon  an  animated  discussion  rose  in  which 
all  the  others  joined,  each  having  his  own  particular  examples 
to  cite  in  proof  of  a  superior  knowledge  of  the  disposition  and 
habits  of  the  race.  During  this  time,  the  young  man  was 
forced  to  chafe  and  fret  silently,  allowing  them  to  have  their 
own  way,  until  the  subject  was  exhausted,  when  he  suggested 
that  the  search  should  be  resumed. 

"I'm  agreed,"  answered  the  largest  and  roughest  of  the 
three  "professionals,"  and  who  had  the  reputation  of  being 
the  shrewdest  of  the  "company."  "Howsomever,  it  seems 
to  me  we're  on  a  wild  goose  chase,  an'  not  likely  to  git  off'n 
it  very  soon,  unless  we  change  our  course." 

"  What  do  you  propose  ?  " 

"  Well,  to  go  up  the  river  to  the  fust  crick,  an'  foller  the 
course  o'  that  till  we  iSnd  a  landin'.  He'd  be  obliged  to  take 
the  dirt  sumtime,  an'  I  'spect  he  must  'a'  done  it  sum'ers  nigh 
the  road  to  Florence." 

"  Why  did  we  not  think  of  that  before  ? "  asked  Mr.  Pas- 
siver, a  light  breaking  over  his  moody  features. 

"Well,  I  did." 


304  A   STORY   OF   THE    GREAT   REBELLION. 

"^Yhy  the  deuce,  didn't  you  say  so  then?"  was  the  impa- 
tient answer,  "and  not  keep  us  all  chasing  through  the  hot 
sun  for  nothing! " 

"  Well,  ye  see  I  look  out  fur  our  own  interests,  consid'able, 
mister.  We're  not  paid  by  the  job — but  so  much  'a  hour," 
he  answered  facetiously,  drawing  a  laugh  from  his  comrades. 

"I  would  rather  double  your  wages,  and  pay  you  by  the 
'job'  and  be  done  with  it,"  was  the  curt  response.  "You 
cannot  think  this  waste  of  time  very  pleasant  to  me,  and  I 
protest  that  it  is  not  fair." 

"That's  a  fac',"  spoke  up  another  of  the  three ;  "it  aint  fair, 
an'  I  vote  that  we  go  to  work  without  more  palaver." 

Here  the  colloquy  ended,  and  the  hunt  began  again  with 
renewed  vigor,  taking  the  course  *of  the  little  brook  which 
Rufus  had  waded  through  to  the  Hall.  The  negroes  heard 
the  noise  and  made  a  stampede  which  attracted  IMrs.  Passi- 
ver's  attention  and  drew  her  to  a  window  from  which  she  saw 
the  approach  of  the  party,  accompanied  by  the  dogs,  which 
they  were  now  leading  on  each  side  of  the  stream.  Now,  in- 
deed, the  most  trying  moment  for  her  had  come,  and  hidden 
behind  the  curtain  of  her  window  she  waited  with  suspended 
breath  and  a  fast  beating  heart  for  the  issue. 

On  they  came,  the  animals  sluggishly  and  unwillingly,  until 
they  reached  the  point  where  the  brook  crossed  the  road,  when 
one  of  the  brutes  gave  a  sudden  bound  and  uttered  one  deep, 
prolonged  cry,  which  announced  his  finding  the  trail.  The 
excitement  was  now  intense,  and  being  freed  from  the  chains 
which  bound  them,  the  three  animals  bounded  forward  to  the 
gate,  where  they  paused,  baffled  and  at  fault.  Astrea  saw  it 
from  her  hiding-place,  and  uttered  an  audible  prayer  of  thanks- 
si  vincc. 

"  Dear  Lord,  it  has  succeeded !  I  thank  thee,  oh,  I  thank 
thee!" 

"  Open  the  gate,"  shouted  a  voice,  "  and  let  'em  through ! 
Perhaps  they'll  find  the  trail  agin  on  the  inside." 

The  gate  was  thrown  open  accordingly,  and  here  again  the 


THE   NEGRO-HUNTERS    BAFFLED.  305 

doG-s  jrave  tongue  to  a  simultaneous  veil.  But  in  a  moment 
they  were  again  baffled,  and  dashed  over  the  yard  without 
finding  further  evidence  of  the  fugitive's  presence.  Convinced 
that  the  animals  would  have  followed  the  trail  had  it  existed, 
the  men  stood  amazed  and  at  fault. 

"  It's  the  infernalist,  strangest  thing  that  they  can't  git  on 
the  back  track,"  growled  the  leader,  whose  name  was  Perkins. 
"Here  we  have  it  from  the  branch  (brook)  to  the  gate,  an' 
then  from  the  gate  to  a  certain  spot  in  the  yard,  whar  it's  lost. 
I  can't  see  through  it.  Thar  must  be  a  back  track;  but  why 
can't  the  dogs  find  it!     It  beats  me  all  holler!" 

"  Take  them  around  the  house  and  see  if  a  trail  can  be  found 
anywhere  else,"  said  Mr.  Passiver ;  but  half  an  hour  was  spent 
fruitlessly,  and  they  were  forced  to  yield. 

"I  'spose  he  couldn't  a'  got  into  the  house  any  Avay?"  re- 
marked Perkins  at  last,  as  he  stood  wiping  the  perspiration 
from  a  very  red  face  with  a  yellow  silk  handkerchief. 

"  Impossible !  still,  you  may  see  if  you  choose.  Turn  one 
of  the  dogs  loose  in  the  hall.  I  suppose  there  is  no  danger 
of  his  attacking  anybody?" 

"  Xo,  but  they'd  better  all  clar  out'n  the  way  fur  all  that." 

Mr.  Passiver  shouted  to  the  negroes  to  vacate  the  house, 
and  they  all  scampered  pell-mell  into  the  kitchen,  where  they 
fastened  the  door,  while  the  dog  was  turned  loose  in  the  hall. 
He  trotted  through  the  halls  and  up  the  stairway,  snuffing  at 
everything  without  any  satisfactory  result.  Seeing  the  use- 
lessness  of  the  search  in  this  quarter,  the  animal  was  called 
out,  and  consultation  held  as  to  what  was  to  be  done  next. 

But  the  remainder  of  the  day  was  a  heavy  drag  upon  all, 
and  night  closed  in  upon  a  baflSed  and  moody  party.  They 
slept  at  the  Hall  that  night,  and  resumed  the  hunt  upon  the 
day  following,  without  any  better  success,  and  finally  were 
forced  to  give  it  up  as  useless  after  having  scoured  the  whole 
plantation,  and  followed  the  course  of  every  stream  for  miles. 

AVhile  this  was  going  on  at  the  Hall,  Doctor  Early  had 
taken  Kufus  about  twelve  miles  down  the  river  on  pretence  of 
20 


306  A   STORY    OF   THE   GREAT   REBELLION. 

visiting  his  patient  there,  and  under  cover  of  night,  put  him  in 
a  skiff  well  provided  with  food  enough  to  last  him  a  fortnight. 
He  charged  him  to  travel  as  fast  as  possible  at  night,  taking 
pains  to  tie  up  during  daylight  in  some  obscure  spot  where  he 
might  not  be  discovered.  To  secure  him  against  detention  in 
case  of  being  discovered,  he  gave  him  a  paper  which  professed 
to  be  a  pass  from  his  master,  stating  that  the  bearer  was  sent 
upon  business  to  Paducah,  and  was  in  every  way  trustworthy. 
This  done,  he  was  committed  to  the  mercy  of  the  stream  and 
his  own  shrewdness,  while  the  Doctor  drove  hastily  back  to 
Florence. 

Poor  Eufus  now  found  himself  adrift  upon  the  water,  with 
many  dangers  before  him,  and  no  one  on  whom  to  depend  but 
himself.  There  was  a  blanket  and  plenty  of  food  in  the  bot- 
tom of  his  frail  barque,  and  a  purse  well  filled  in  his  pocket ; 
still  he  felt  sadly  afraid  and  despairing  at  times  as  he  whirled 
along  over  shoals,  and  through  the  swift  current,  with  the 
broad  expanse  of  stars  overhead,  and  no  other  companionship 
than  his  own  distrustful  thoughts.  Just  as  day  dawned,  he 
paddled  his  skiff  into  the  mouth  of  a  small  creek,  and  drew  it 
snugly  under  cover  of  a  dense  clump  of  water-willows.  This 
done,  he  breakfasted  from  his  store  of  eatables,  and  creeping 
among  the  leaves  under  a  small  chff,  laid  himself  down  to  sleep 
until  night,  when  he  might  pursue  his  perilous  journey  with 
a  greater  degree  of  safety.  In  this  way  he  traveled  the  whole 
length  of  the  Tennessee  Eiver  to  its  mouth,  and  there  paddling 
across  the  Ohio  to  the  Elinois  side,  found  himself  free ! 

We  say  free!  He  was  comparatively  free,  though  the  fu- 
gitive slave  law  provided  means  for  his  recapture  by  his  owner, 
could  that  owner  succeed  in  tracing  him  to  his  place  of  refuge. 
But  as  if  fortune  had  wearied  of  tormenting  him,  she  turned 
a  smiling  face  upon  the  poor  wanderer,  and  guided  him  safely 
to  friends,  where  he  found  shelter  and  protection.  The  farmer 
who  kindly  took  him  in,  was  soon  induced  to  give  him  em- 
ployment at  what  Rufus  thought  very  liberal  wages,  and  from 
this  place,  one  week  after  his  arrival,  went  forth  a  queer  little 


A  MESSENGER   OF    GLADNESS.  307 

messenger,  which  was  destined  to  bring  gladness  to  more  than 
one  heart.  It  was  written  by  the  farmer's  daughter,  badly 
spelled  and  filled  with  blots ;  but  the  evidences  of  a  generous 
nature  shone  through  every  irregular  line.  It  was  addressed 
to  Doctor  Early,  Florence,  Alabama,  and  was  read  by  him 
with  much  satisfaction,  and  passed  over  to  Mrs.  Passivcr,  to 
whom  it  was  even  more  welcome  than  to  the  Doctor.  Being 
an  evidence  of  a  dangerous  natui'C,  against  her  friend,  she  was 
compelled  to  destroy  it,  and  thus  fared  Rufus'  first  and  last 
letter  home.     It  was  long  before  she  heard  from  him  again. 

i\jid  now,  for  a  time,  exciting  scenes  were  at  an  end  at 
Passiver  Hall.  The  young  planter,  baffled  in  everything  he 
undertook,  changed  his  excitable  course  to  one  of  watchful- 
ness, which  brought,  however,  no  mysteries  to  light.  From 
that  memorable  night  forth,  ghostly  visitants  disappeared,  and 
the  negroes  were  so  well  behaved,  there  was  no  excuse  for 
floo-o-ing  them.  Consequently  there  was  no  need  for  stolen 
visits  by  night-time,  and  their  attendant  risks.  But  the  young 
couple  were  hopelessly  alienated,  and  lived  apart  under  the 
same  roof,  one  full  of  hatred  and  brooding  revenge,  while  the 
other  was  sorrowful,  and  went  on  her  lonely  way  without  one 
gleam  of  hope  for  the  future,  since  her  husband's  course  had 
forever  destroyed  all  respect  and  affection. 

This  was  the  state  of  affairs  until  the  political  excitement 
previous  to  the  Presidential  election  roused  all  the  country  to 
a  ferment.  Mr.  Passiver,  being  one  of  the  most  prominent 
men  of  his  section,  was  chosen  delegate  to  the  Charleston 
convention  which  nominated  Judge  Douglas  as  Democratic 
candidate  for  the  presidency.  As  it  is  well  known  the  pro- 
ceedings of  this  convention  were  unsatisfactory,  and  ended  in 
the  downfall  of  the  Democratic  party — Mr.  Lincoln  being 
elected  to  the  high  office  of  the  Chief  Magistracy  of  the 
United  States. 

This  would  have  been  a  bitter  cup  for  men  like  Frederic 
Passiver  to  drink,  had  it  not  been  in  accordance  with  their 
own  purposes.     One  of  the  first  to  secede  in  the  convention, 


308  A   STORY    OF   THE   GEEAT   REBELLIOX.. 

he  hotly  promulgated  the  confusion,  going  with  the  minority 
whose  purpose  was  to  suffer  the  Republican  party  to  elect  a 
candidate,  thereby  furnishing  a  pretext  for  the  secession  of  the 
Southern  States.  They  wanted  an  independent  government, 
and  had  for  years  looked  forward  to  this  epoch,  when  they 
might  find  an  excuse  for  the  consummation  of  their  evil  de- 
signs. Being  of  a  sanguine  and  excitable  temperament,  Mr. 
Passiver  had  easily  fallen  into  the  views  of  this  factious  party, 
and  from  taking  a  lively  interest,  soon  became  one  of  its  most 
prominent  leaders.  The  excitement  which  now  pervaded  the 
South  was  terrible.  South  Carohna  was  first  to  secede  fol- 
lowed by  Georgia  and  Alabama.  The  Governor  had  called 
an  election  for  members  of  a  convention,  by  which  Alabama 
could  pass  an  ordinance  of  secession,  a  law  having  been  passed 
by  a  previous  Legislature  from  which  he  took  his  authority 
for  this  bold  and  dangerous  step.  The  purport  of  this  con- 
vention, was  alleged  to  be  for  the  consideration  of  the  best 
course  for  the  State  of  Alabama  to  pursue.  The  parties  were 
about  equally  divided  in  the  State,  and  the  convention  con- 
sisted of  one  hundred  members.  Fifty  of  the  elected  were 
pledged  to  resist  secession,  but  through  fraud,  the  certificates 
of  election  to  the  two  Union  members  from  Shelby  County 
were  g-iven  to  the  secession  candidates  which  gave  the  latter 
the  majority.  The  Union  party  were  headed  by  Jerre  Clem- 
ens, while  the  secessionists  looked  to  William  L.  Yancey, 
with  whose  name  and  abilities  the  country  is  only  too  well 
acquainted.  By  this  man  and  his  party,  no  efforts  were  left 
untried  to  accomplish  their  purpose,  and  pass  the  ordinance, 
which  was  finally  effected  through  the  treachery  of  the  Union 
leader  and  some  of  his  closest  adherents.  Having  succeeded, 
the  names  of  every  member  of  the  convention  with  the  excep- 
tion of  some  half  a  dozen  who  were  steel-true  to  the  last, 
appeared  upon  this  ordinance,  and  Alabama  was  declared  an 
independent  and  sovereign  Government.  Foremost  among 
those  names  which  must  go  down  to  posterity  dishonored  as 
traitors,  was  that  of  Frederic  Passiver,  whose  career  began 


THREATENING    CLOUDS    OF   WAR.  309 

witli  the  first  miitterings  of  a  long  brooding  faction,  and  was 
doomed  to  end  ignominiously,  as  our  readers  will  see. 

"With  the  first  call  to  arms,  he  responded  by  placing  him- 
self and  a  large  sum  of  money  at  the  service  of  the  Confeder- 
ate Government,  which  evidence  of  loyalty  was  rewarded  by 
a  Colonel's  commission  and  command.  Meagre  as  this  seemed 
to  one  who  had  taken  so  active  a  part,  he  was  not  displeased, 
and  he  resolved  to  win  for  himself  a  reputation  unequaled  by 
any  in  the  Confederacy. 

And  now  again,  began  the  ills  of  Astrea  Passiver's  adverse 
life,  when  she  saw  her  husband  actively  engaged  in  the  down- 
fall of  a  government  which  she  had  always  looked  to  with  the 
hearty  pride  of  a  true  American  citizen.  She  was  not  a  bom 
American,  having  been  reared  in  Alabama  only,  from  her  third 
year ;  but  it  was  the  home  of  her  adoption  and  she  was  true 
to  it  because  it  had  afforded  her  wealth,  friends  and  a  happy 
home  up  to  the  time  of  her  marriage.  Mr.  Harmon's  only 
brother  had  early  settled  in  the  States,  and  amassed  a  consid- 
erable fortune,  which  in  dying,  he  had  left  to  Astrea's  father, 
who  sailed  from  England  immediately  upon  receiving  intelli- 
gence of  the  fact,  to  take  possession  of  this  unexpected  for- 
tune. Uniting  his  own  previous  possessions  with  this,  he 
found  himself  in  a  fine  position  pecuniarily,  and  setting  aside 
the  prejudices  of  his  race,  had  easily  fallen  into  the  ideas  and 
habits  of  the  slave-holder.  It  is  a  wonder  that  Astrea  failed 
to  imbibe  from  him  and  those  aroimd  her,  the  same  false  ideas 
of  right  and  justice ;  but  we  have  seen  with  what  views  she 
grew  up,  and  into  what  troubles  they  involved  her.  In  those 
days,  to  oppose  the  popular  current,  was  to  immolate  one's 
self  upon  a  sacrificial  altar,  and  the  worst  was  yet  to  come. 

It  was  no  small  trial  to  look  from  her  windows  over  the 
long  stretch  of  meadow  lands  below,  and  see  the  men  drilling 
for  the  field  of  action,  especially  when  she  knew  why  that 
spot  was  chosen.  Nor  was  her  discomfort  relieved  by  being 
obliged  to  see  those  men  whom  he  called  his  officers,  seated  at 
her  table  and  lounjrins:  throun-h  her  rooms  when  not  thus 


310  A   STORY    OF   THE   GREAT   REBELLIOX. 

actively  engaged.  A  very  little  while  served  to  betray  her 
real  sentiments,  and  the  work  of  persecution  began  the  mo- 
ment his  sanction,  by  manner,  was  obtained.  He  made  a 
great  show  of  grief  over  her  degeneracy,  and  an  attempt  to 
win  her  back  to  allegiance  to  the  southern  cause;  but  she 
stood  firm,  at  length  openly  asserting  that  she  had  never  been 
with  them  in  any  respect  whatever.  From  this  time  the  de- 
mon of  hate  was  roused  against  her  to  a  degree  beyond  de- 
scription, and  all  sorts  of  stories  set  afloat  which  served  to 
increase  her  dano;er.  Amoncrst  other  thino-s  it  was  asserted 
that  she  had  "run  off  one  of  her  husband's  niggers,"  and  at- 
tempted to  run  others  out  of  the  country,  which,  while  it  par- 
took only  partially  of  the  truth,  seemed  a  suflScient  ground  for 
her  banishment,  and  when  at  length  she  was  called  upon  to 
take  the  oath  of  allegiance  to  the  South  and  firmly  refused,  it 
was  decided  that  she,  with  all  others  who  cherished  sentiments 
of  a  like  nature,  should  be  sent  North,  with  a  penalty  of  death 
attached  to  their  return  withm  the  lines,  which  act  would  sub- 
ject them  to  the  trial  and  punishment  of  spies. 

Against  this  summary  measure,  Frederic  Passiver  made  no 
protest,  and  in  the  midst  of  seeming  grief,  declared  himself 
equal  even  to  this  great  sacrifice  for  the  good  of  his  beloved 
country,  "  which  he  would  purchase  with  his  own  blood,  ere 
it  should  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  northern  vandals !  "  Forth- 
with he  became  a  hero  in  the  eyes  of  his  blinded  colleagues, 
and  received  their  condolences  with  an  admirable  assumption 
of  grief  and  self-sacrifice,  while  his  sweet  young  wife  was 
taken  from  her  home,  bereaved  of  her  child,  and  sent  Xorth 
amono;  strang-ers. 

By  Colonel  Passiver's  direction,  she  was  escorted  to  Louis- 
ville, where  she  was  bidden  to  take  care  of  herself,  and  from 
thence  with  her  scant  fund  of  money  and  jewels,  she  went  to 
St.  Louis,  carrying  a  sick  heart  within  her  bosom — having 
lost  home,  friends,  husband  and  child  through  her  loyalty  to 
the  Federal  Government. 

And  now  began  her  struggle  for  subsistence,  having  as  its 


BANISHED   FROM   HOME.  311 

sole  motive,  a  hope  of  eventually  recovering  her  child.  Some 
one  incidentally  spoke  in  her  presence,  about  correspondence 
with  the  papers,  and  she  immediately  conceived  the  idea  of 
becoming  a  coiTcspondcnt.  Her  first  letter  was  to  a  New 
York  paper,  detailing  some  of  the  exciting  scenes  through 
which  she  had  passed,  and  which  meeting  the  demand  of  the 
times,  being  largely  copied,  brought  her,  not  only  a  liberal 
price,  but  an  invitation  to  let  the  editors  "  hear  from  her  again." 
In  this  we  have  revealed  the  mystery  of  her  independence  at 
Paducah,  which  so  much  troubled  Major  Noble,  and  caused 
him  for  a  while  to  suspect  her  of  dishonestly  appropriating 
funds  placed  in  her  hands  for  the  benefit  of  the  soldiers. 

The  substance  of  the  foregoing  history  was  given  to  our 
friends  at  Corinth  by  Astrea,  herself,  who  could  no  longer 
withhold  from  them  the  story  of  her  life ;  and  which  she  told 
them  in  fragments  as  her  strength  permitted.  With  the  nov- 
elist's privilege,  the  events  have  been  woven  together  as  the 
reader  sees,  the  author  vouching  for  the  truth  of  the  history, 
as  confirmed  by  subsequent  proofs. 


CHAPTER    XXIV. 

THE  BATTLE  OF  CORINTH,  AND  SOME  OF  ITS  HORRORS, 

The  evening  succeeding  Captain  Wilfer's  last  interview 
with  General  Grant,  found  him  a  guest  in  Astrea's  little  parlor, 
where  he  had  begged  to  see  her  alone.  Helen,  who  would 
not  leave  her  until  she  could  take  care  of  herself,  put  her  into 
her  easy  chair  and  ran  home  to  "  see  the  Major,"  giving  him 
the  opportunity  he  desired.  He  took  a  chair  and  sat  down 
beside  her,  saying  in  an  unsteady  voice : 

"  I  have  come  to  bid  you  good-bye.  Miss  Harmon." 

"  You  are  not  going  away  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  Why,  how  can  you  leave  at  this  time  ?  I  heard  an  officer 
say  the  other  day,  that  it  was  difficult  to  get  a  leave  of  absence." 

"I  have  not  found  it  so,"  he  replied  with  a  sad  smile.  "To 
tell  you  the  truth,  I  have  resigned,  and  am  going  North  im- 
mediately." 

"  What  to  do  there  ?  Oh,  how  could  you  resign  your  com- 
mission now?"  she  expostulated  reproachfully.  "Have  you 
so  soon  wearied  of  the  good  cause?" 

"  No,  I  have  not,  and  shall  not  abandon  the  service.  When 
you  hear  from  me  again,  it  will  be  of  a  man,  who,  in  spite  of 
everything,  intends  to  serve  his  country.  I  am  going  to  the 
Army  of  the  Potomac." 

"Why,  pray! "  was  on  her  lips,  but  she  paused  before  the 
words  were  spoken.     A-  sudden  thought  flashed  upon  her 


TO    ANOTHER    FIELD    OF    DUTY.  313 

Avliicli  dyed  her  flice  and  throat  crimson.  lie  Avas  going  away 
from  her,  and  her  lips  were  sealed.  The  truth  had  not  entered 
her  mind,  and  he  would  not  enlighten  her  as  to  the  real  cause 
of  his  departure,  knowing  that  it  could  only  add  to  her  pain 
unnecessarily. 

"  I  hope  you  may  be  successful,"  she  faltered,  as  the  only 
thino-  she  could  say  under  the  circumstances. 

"  You  will  know  it  if  I  am,"  he  answered  quietly.  "  I  mean 
to  write  to  you  sometimes,  and  I  shall  expect  you  to  reply  to 
my  letters.     Surely  you  cannot  refuse  me  now?" 

"  No,  I  will  write,"  but  she  thought  the  request  inconsistent, 
if  he  was  going  away  to  avoid  her. 

"  And  you  will  tell  me  everything  about  yourself — all  that 
concerns  you?"  he  urged  again. 

"  Certainly,  if  you  wish  it." 

"I  do,  as  I  w^ould  wish  to  know  about  a  dear  sister,  if  she 
was  in  your  place.  If  I  dared  I  would  even  go  further,  and 
say  that  I  would  be  glad  if  you  could  make  up  your  mind  to 
leave  this  part  of  the  country  altogether ;  you  are  too  delicate 
to  bear  all  these  hardships,  and  I  shall  constantly  dread  to  hear 
of  you,  lest  you  may  be  sick  or — dead ! " 

"If  I  am  ill,  it  wdll  be  no  wonder — if  I  die,  it  will  be  a 
blessino-.  If  you  do  hear  of  the  latter  event,  rejoice  in  your 
heart,  for  I  carry  a  heavy  burthen  in  carrymg  my  life." 

"Xay,  you  are  too  despairing.  Have  you  abandoned  all 
hope  of  recovering  your  child?" 

"  I  scarcely  know  if  there  is  any  hope  left  for  me,  so  much 
has  been  done  to  destroy  it.  While  General  Ilalleck  was 
here,  our  forces,  as  you  know  occupied  Tuscumbia  and  Flor- 
ence. I  came  to  him  ajid  told  my  sorrowful  story,  to  which 
he  listened  in  all  kindness,  but  would  not  give  me  a  pass  to 
revisit  the  place,  and  try  to  ascertain  where  my  child  was. 
He  sent  a  message  to  the  commanding  officer,  however,  who 
returned  an  answer  that  Colonel  Passiver  had  removed  his 
family  and  effects  to  Tuscaloosa,  within  the  Confederate  lines, 
and  I  was  forced  to  wait,  there  being  no  help  for  it.     The  only 


314  A    STORY    OF    THE    GREAT   REBELLION. 

attempt  made  since,  you  are  familiar  with,  and  know  if  I  have 
any  i-eason  for  hope." 

"  I  do  not  think  you  need  to  despair.  He  says  the  child  is 
with  his  mother.     Will  she  not  be  kind  to  her?" 

"I  do  not  know,  for  I  have  never  seen  her  more  than  once 
or  twice.  About  the  time  he  took  possession  of  his  father's 
estate,  a  disagreement  of  some  unpleasant  nature  occurred 
between  them,  and  she  went  to  some  friends  in  New  Orleans. 
I  have  never  seen  her  since,  and  do  not  know  what  her  dis- 
position may  be." 

"Has  Colonel  Passiver  any  brothers  or  sisters?" 

"One  brother  only,  whom  I  have  never  seen.  He  is  an 
artist,  and  has  spent  the  last  ten  years  in  Rome,  Venice  and 
other  places.  About  the  time  we  went  to  England,  he  went 
to  Germany,  and  it  so  happened  that  we  missed  him  every- 
where. I  have  always  suspected  that  these  apparent  accidents 
were  intentional,  and  that  some  cause  for  a  feud  existed  be- 
tween the  brothers,  though  Mr.  Passiver  would  never  acknowl- 
edge it.  Perhaps,  if  my  suspicions  were  true,  the  same  thing 
which  caused  the  breach  between  them,  was  the  cause  of  his 
mother's  departure  for  New  Orleans.  I  once  heard  that  his 
brother  shared  but  sparely  of  the  family  estate,  while  the 
division  shovdd  have  been  equal,  which  is  probably  true." 

They  sat  talking  over  events  for  half  an  hour  longer,  when 
Captain  Wilfer  rose  and  held  out  his  hand. 

"I  must  go,  my  dear  friend." 

"  So  soon  ?     I  may  never  see  you  again." 

"  You  will  if  God  spares  our  lives.  This  war  cannot  last 
always.  When  it  is  ended,  if  not  before,  I  will  find  you. 
Promise  me,  in  the  meantime,  to  take  care  of  your  health." 

"I  will  try." 

"Very  reluctantly  spoken!  Oh,  Astrea,  be  wise  and  be 
faithful  as  well,  little  sister.  God  created  you  for  a  noble  life, 
and  you  must  not  waste  it  in  useless  pining.  Trust  Him,  and 
hope  for  a  brighter  future.  I  do  believe  that  it  will  surely  be 
your  lot  to  know  happier  days.     Probably  I  shall  never  see 


OPENING    OF   THE   BATTLE   OF   CORINTH.  315 

you  again,  as  you  have  just  said.  May  I^  kiss  your  hand  in 
this  my  last  good-bye?" 

She  hekl  up  to  him  a  pale  cheek  instead,  and  he  touched  it 
with  his  lips  lightly,  reverently.  Tears  coursed  down  her 
cheeks,  as  they  parted,  and  she  fell  back  in  her  chair  and 
sobbed  as  he  strode  away  with  hasty  steps,  striving  to  keep 
down  the  emotion  which  was  unnerving  him. 

AVhen  morning  came,  he  was  gone.  Corinth  was  now  dull 
and  quiet,  nothing  of  importance  occurring  to  disturb  tho 
usual  routine  until  Price  advanced  upon  luka  and  made  some 
hostile  demonstrations  which  resulted  in  small  loss  upon  either 
side.  The  chief  excitement  which  arose  out  of  this  little  epi- 
sode, was  in  the  war  amongst  northern  papers,  which  can- 
vassed the  movement  of  Rosecrans  and  Grant  with  much 
Avarmth.  The  weather  was  intensely  hot,  the  roads  dry  and 
full  of  dust  everywhere.  All  Corinth,  and  the  country  for 
miles  around,  began  to  look  like  a  desert,  while  the  streams 
dried  up,  rendering  it  difficult  to  find  enough  water  for  the 
use  of  the  animals.  The  green  leaves  became  crisp,  and  cov- 
ered with  a  fine,  white  dust  which  destroyed  every  vestige  of 
fi-eshness,  while  scarcely  a  blade  of  green  grass  was  to  be  seen. 
In  the  midst  of  this  dull,  dead,  unpleasant  picture,  burst  the 
vivid  battle-fires  of  Corinth. 

The  enemy  made  the  attack  on  the  morning  of  the  third  of 
October,  just  after  daylight — not  this  time  upon  an  array  of 
unsuspecting  troops.  They  had  been  expecting,  and  prepared 
for  him  in  time,  bravely  contesting  every  foot  of  ground  from 
the  beginning.  That  was  a  terrible  day  at  Corinth,  and  be- 
fore the  sun  went  down  upon  the  struggling  masses,  many  of 
our  best,  and  some  of  our  prominent  men  had  fallen.  Xeither 
side  could  be  said  to  have  gained  any  decided  advantage, 
though  the'  odds  may  have  been  upon  the  Confederate  side, 
when  the  battle  was  suspended  for  the  night.  During  the 
day  our  friends,  Astrea  and  Mrs.  Noble,  had  been  forced  to 
remain  within  the  shelterino;  Avails  of  the  Tishominfro  Hotel, 
where  the  wounded  were  brought  to  them  for  attention,  until 


316  A   STORY   OF   THE   GREAT   REBELLION. 

the  place  was  full  of  the  mangled  and  groaning  sufferers. 
Many  died,  and  were  drawn  into  the  kitchen  and  wood-house, 
until  the  floors  were  literally  covered  with  lifeless  bodies. 
There  was  scarcely  a  spot  below  stairs  where  they  could  step 
without  treading  in  blood;  and  yet  neither  shrank  from  the 
task,  though  both  sickened  many  a  time  over  the  horrors  of 
that  scene.  They  could  hear  the  thunders  of  the  cannon,  and 
the  hissing  of  the  shells  which  sometimes  crashed  against  and 
through  the  walls,  but  never  once  thought  of  leaving  the  spot. 
During  the  first  two  hours  they  had  suffered  greatly  with  af- 
fright, especially  when  the  sound  of  the  strife  seemed  to  come 
nearer  and  nearer  toward  the  town.  After  that,  however, 
they  had  grown  accustomed  to  the  noise,  and  being  occupied 
with  things  immediately  around  them,  became  calm  and  self- 
possessed. 

As  night  closed  in,  Astrea  sought  and  found  a  couple  of 
lanterns,  two  buckets  and  some  tin  cups  which  she  immedi- 
ately appropriated.  Helen  regarded  her  curiously  as  she 
lighted  candles  to  place  in  the  lanterns,  and  hung  an  empty 
bucket  with  a  cup  inside  upon  her  arm. 

"Where  are  you  going?" 

"To  the  field  to  carry  water  to  the  wounded.  You  will 
go  with  me?" 

"Yes,  but  who  will  take  care  of  these  people  here?" 

"  There  are  one  or  two  doctors,  several  women  and  all  the 
negroes.  Surely  among  them,  they  will  find  attendants  until 
we  return.  Think  of  the  many  who  lie  out  there  bleeding, 
thirsting,  dying,  with  none  to  help!     Come  quickly." 

Helen  tied  a  handkerchief  over  her  head,  and  they  went 
out  together,  crossing  the  town  and  fearlessly  pressing  on  to 
the  battle-ground  where  the  wounded  lay.  On  arriving  there, 
they  found  the  ambulance  corps  busy  picking  up  the  wounded, 
their  lanterns  gleaming  from  every  point.  But  a  few  moments 
served  to  show  them  that  their  services  would  not  be  useless, 
and  at  once  they  began  to  search  for  water,  which  they  had 
much  difficulty  in  finding.     At  length  they  came  upon  a  well 


ON    THE    BATTLE-FIELD    AT   NIGHT.  317 

near  a  small  log-cabin,  whose  fast-decaying  windlass  made  it 
almost  impossible  for  their  united  strength  and  skill  to  raise 
enough  to  fill  their  buckets,  yet  they  toiled  perseveringly, 
and  carried  their  burthens  back  to  the  field  with  rejoicing. 
As  soon  as  the  buckets  were  emptied,  they  were  again  refilled 
by  the  same  wearisome  process,  until  an  end  was  put  to  their 
labors  by  Major  Noble,  who  insisted  that  they  should  return  to 
the  house  and  leave  the  remainder  to  those  whose  business  it 
was  to  care  for  the  wounded.  Helen  expostulated  with  him, 
unwilling  to  return. 

"Only  think,  George,  how  you  would  feel,  lying  here  in 
the  dreary  night,  with  the  dead  and  dying  all  around  you, 
thirsting  vainly  for  a  drop  of  water,  while  none  was  near  to 
give  it  to  you !  I  cannot  think  of  it  and  go  home,  leaving 
them  behind  to  suffer." 

"  I  would  not  ask  it,  if  I  did  not  know  it  to  be  necessary. 
You  must  not  exhaust  yourself  at  the  outset,  for  the  battle  is 
not  yet  over,  and  there  is  no  telling  what  demands  may  be 
made  upon  your  strength.  Neither  of  you  are  fit  to  remain 
longer  now.     Come  home." 

"Astrea,  tell  him  we  cannot  go  yet." 

"No,  dear,  we  must  go,"  she  answered  sadly.  "Your  hus- 
band is  right ;  we  ought  now  to  go  home,  and  save  our  strength 
for  to-morrow.  It  is  dreadful  to  be  obliged  to  leave  one  suf- 
ferer here  uncared  for;  but  if  we  stay  and  exhaust  ourselves 
to-night,  many  may  suffer  to-morrow  in  consequence,  which 
we  might  be  able  to  relieve." 

"Why  do  you  not  add  that  you  need  relief  yourself?" 
asked  the  Major.  "  Not  one  person  out  of  a  hundred  would 
say  that  you  ought  to  be  here,  with  that  pale  face  and  those 
hollow  eyes.  You  are  not  fit  to  be  out  of  your  bed,  much 
less  in  the  midst  of  a  scene  like  this." 

"  I  cannot  help  it,  and  this  is  what  I  am  here  for.  Perhaps 
if  I  take  pity  on  these,  and  give  one  beloved  one  back  to  his 
friends,  God  will  take  pity  upon  me  and  restore  to  me  that 
which  I  have  lost.     I  must  do  my  duty." 


318  A    STORY    OF    THE    GEEAT   REBELLION. 

"My  dear  child,  you  have  grown  too  morbidly  exacting 
upon  yourself,  and  fall  into  the  common  error  of  striving  for 
too  much.  Be  content  with  less,  and  you  will  not  fall  short 
in  your  duty.  You  owe  something  to  yourself  as  well  as  to 
others." 

"  Major  Noble,  this  is  a  point  which  I  cannot  argue  with 
you,  especially  at  this  hour,  and  in  such  a  place.  As  long  as 
I  can  stand  up,  I  Avill  not  cease  to  strive  in  the  path  I  have 
chosen.  I  will  go  home  now,  be(ja,use  I  feel  that  it  is  posi- 
tively necessary." 

They  went  baxik  into  town  almost  in  silence ;  the  Major  and 
Helen  saw  Astrea  safely  to  her  own  door  and  left  her  there, 
knowing  she  could  get  no  rest  at  the  hotel.  With  the  early 
morning  she  was  again  at  her  post,  much  refreshed  by  three 
or  four  hours  of  sleep,  and  a  substantial  breakfast.  Her  face 
was  almost  bright  as  she  entered  the  long  dining-hall,  now 
converted  into  a  hospital,  and  began  the  task  of  relieving  the 
wants  of  the  wounded. 

If  the  first  day's  strife  was  terrible  in  that  memorable  con- 
test, the  second  was  more  fearful  still ;  for  now  the  Confeder- 
ates gained  ground  and  penetrated  the  town  to  the  very  center, 
pressing  hotly  around  the  Corinth  House,  and  over  the  railroad 
bridge  just  above  the  Tishomingo.  Nearly  every  inmate  of 
the  latter  house  was  forced  to  abandon  it  and  seek  for  shelter  in 
the  woods ;  but  our  friends  refused  positively  to  go,  remaining 
in  the  midst  of  the  strife,  while  the  battle  raged  hotly  around 
them.  A  shell  had  crashed  through  the  wall  just  before  noon, 
killing  a  man  who  lay  on  a  cot  close  to  the  spot,  and  badly 
wounding  Major  Noble,  who,  being  unfit  for  duty  on  the  field, 
was  doing  all  he  could  inside  the  building,  until  the  blow  left 
him  senseless  upon  the  floor.  Helen  ran  to  him,  and  gathered 
his  head  into  her  arms,  with  a  frantic  cry  of  anguish : 

"He  is  killed!    Oh,  my  husband,  my  husband !  he  is  dead  I" 

Astrea  heard  that  bitter  wail,  and  hastened  to  her,  followed 
by  a  surgeon,  who  examined  the  wound.  A  small  piece  of 
shell  had  buried  itself  in  one  side  of  the  head  near  the  temple. 


DYING    AT   THE   POST   OP   DUTY.  C19 

"He  is  not  dead,  but  this  wound  is  fatal,"  said  the  surgeon 
anxiously.  "Let  us  move  him  down  stairs  as  far  from  the 
strife  as  possible,  or  you  may  be  killed  as  Avell." 

With  the  assistance  of  one  or  two  others,  the  Major  was 
borne  to  the  wood-house  in  the  rear  of  the  hotel,  where  there 
was  less  danger  of  stray  shots,  and  laid  upon  a  cot.  Helen 
threw  herself  beside  him  with  a  burst  of  frantic  grief  that  Avas 
terrible,  and  no  one  could  comfort  her.  The  dead  were  strewn 
over  the  floor,  and  her  garments  brushed  against  their  white, 
cold  faces,  but  she  did  not  even  see  them,  with  that  one  be- 
loved face  beneath  her  eyes,  whose  lips  might  never  more  sylla- 
ble her  name  in  accents  of  endearinij  affection. 

"You  can  do  nothing,"  said  the  surgeon  to  Astrea,  who  lin- 
gered beside  her  friend,  and  would  not  leave  her.  "  He  is  past 
all  help,  poor  fellow." 

"Can  he  not  even  be  restored  to  consciousness?  May 
nothino;  be  done  to  give  him  relief?" 

"Nothing.  In  less  than  one  hour,  he  will  be  beyond  the 
possibility  of  pain.     Hark!" 

A  woman's  scream  rang  out  upon  the  air,  and  they  looked 
upon  a  fearful  scene  just  outside  the  door,  where  lay  the  frag- 
ments of  a  human  body.  A  soldier's  wife  had  fled  from  the 
camp  into  the  town,  and  concealed  herself  in  one  of  the  negro 
cabins,  until  the  advance  of  the  rebels  frightened  her  from  her 
hiding-place.  Frantic  with  alarm,  she  rushed  out,  and  was 
vainly  essaying  to  find  some  other  place  of  refuge,  when  a 
shell  hissed  down  before  her  and  exploded  with  a  crash,  dash- 
ing her  to  pieces. 

To  the  young  wife,  the  horror  of  this  was  as  nothing  to  the 
scene  before  her.  The  brave,  noble  heart  of  her  darlins:  was 
growing  cold — the  mute  lips  white  in  death,  and  he  would 
never  again  open  his  eyes  upon  the  world  which  he  had  made 
so  beautiful  for  her.  She  sat  there  at  his  side,  heedless  of 
everything  but  him.  Her  hands  wandered  over  his  face, 
through  his  soft,  dark  hair,  and  to  his  heart  where  they  sought 
for  the  lingering  signs  of  life,  fast  fading  away.     And  when 


320  A    STORY    OF   THE    GREAT   REBELLION. 

the  faint  breath  ceased  to  pass  the  cold  lips,  and  she  realized 
that  he  was  dead,  she  grew  so  calm  and  white,  her  stony  grief 
was  worse  than  shrieks  and  tears  would  have  been.  Finally, 
throwing  herself  upon  his  lifeless  body,  she  laid  her  cheek  to 
his,  and  refused  to  be  moved  from  him. 

"I  have  nothing  to  Hve  for  now,"  she  moaned.  "Let  me 
die  with  him." 

"  Come  away  and  let  her  alone  for  awhile,"  said  the  surgeon 
to  Astrea.  "  It  is  the  best  thing  you  can  do,  for  she  will  soon 
exhaust  herself,  and  then  become  passive." 

Astrea  obeyed  very  reluctantly,  following  him  into  other 
parts  of  the  building.  When  she  came  back  half  an  hour  later, 
Helen  had  sunk  into  utter  unconsciousness,  and  she  had  her 
carried  away  to  one  of  the  chambers,  where  they  laid  her  upon 
a  rude  bed  and  left  her  to  the  care  of  her  friend.  Astrea 
looked  down  compassionately  upon  the  still,  pale  face. 

"Poor,  stricken  one!  shall  I  strive  to  restore  you  to  life  and 
misery,  or  let  you  sleep  on  forever?"  she  said.  "I  could  find 
it  in  my  heart  to  let  you  go  with  him — yet  I  dare  not  without 
an  effort  to  save  you." 

Night  closed  in  once  more  upon  wearied  and  exhausted 
troops;  but  now  a  victory  had  been  won,  and  the  Federals 
were  triumphant.  The  Confederates  had  been  repulsed  with 
great  loss  on  both  sides,  and  left  the  ground  covered  with  dead 
and  dying. 

At  Helen's  request,  after  recovering  consciousness.  Major 
Noble's  remains  were  carried  up  stairs  and  laid  upon  a  bed  in 
one  of  the  chambers,  where  she  would  allow  no  one  to  come 
near  him.  With  her  own  hands,  she  bathed  his  face  and 
smoothed  the  hair  over  his  unsightly  wound,  composing  him 
for  burial  with  the  faithful  tenderness  of  a  matchless  love. 
Mrs.  Hemans  tells  a  touching  story  of  a  faithful  wife,  who  re- 
mained beside  her  husband,  and  ministered  to  his  wants,  until 
he  died  upon  the  wheel ;  but  that  instance  of  devotion  scarcely 
exceeded  the  devotion  of  this  more  modern  sacrifice.  She 
seemed  transformed,  and  from  weakness,  had  risen  into  power 


AMONG    THE    DEAD    AND    DYING.  321 

passing  credulity.  Her  face  was  very  pale,  and  tlie  bi'own 
eyes  looked  black  and  burning  with  their  silent  pain ;  but  she 
neither  trembled  nor  faltered  in  what  she  did,  and  after  all 
was  complete,  and  she  had  kissed  the  cold  lips  and  brow,  she 
spread  a  covering  over  him  and  turned  aAvay  to  join  Astrea. 

"You  are  again  going  upon  the  field?"  she  asked. 

"Yes." 

"I  will  go  with  you." 

"  Would  you  not  prefer  to  remain  with  him  ?  " 

"No,  he  does  not  need  me  now,  and  others  do." 

Remonstrance  was  useless,  as  all  saw  by  her  rigid  features, 
and  no  one  lifted  a  voice  against  it,  as  they  proceeded  together 
to  the  battle-ground. 

Xow  the  dead  were  strewn  from  the  Corinth  House  far  back 
beyond  the  belt  of  woodland  that  skirted  the  town.  They 
pressed  on  past  the  groups  of  men  busied  in  the  streets,  and 
entered  the  bushes  where  a  number  of  wounded  men  had  crept 
for  shelter,  and  lay  groaning  piteously.  Occasionally  the  foot 
would  slip  in  a  pool  of  blood,  or  a  groan  from  beneath  their 
feet  would  startle  them  with  a  sickening  sensation  at  heart, 
hard  to  sustain ;  yet  they  would  not  give  up.  Each  sought 
foro-etfulness  of  their  own  sorrows  in  ministering  to  others; 
but  it  was  a  sad,  yes,  a  startling  picture  to  see  those  two  pale 
women  wandering  at  night  through  the  darkness,  their  dreary 
path  lighted  only  by  the  flickering  beams  from  the  lanterns 
they  carried,  and  the  dead  all  around  them.  Less  suffering 
women  could  not  have  passed  through  such  ordeals.  It  is  the 
magnitude  of  woe,  which  words  cannot  express,  that  makes 
us  unselfish.  Once  Helen  had  stooped  to  peer  into  the  face 
of  a  dead  man,  and  saw  that  a  wound  in  the  left  temple  had 
caused  his  death.  A  short,  sharp  cry  escaped  her  lips,  as  if, 
suddenly  from  the  midst  of  the  dead  where  she  wandered,  that 
one  beloved  face  had  started,  ghastly  and  cold.  Sick  and 
trembling,  she  gazed  down  at  it  with  pitiful  eyes,  not  heeding 
the  gray  uniform  which  clothed  the  still  figure,  in  the  throng- 
ing, bitter  memories  it  called  up. 
21 


322  A    STORY    OF   THE    GREAT   REBELLION. 

Astrea  had  "wandered  farther  and  farther,  toward  a  denser 
portion  of  the  brush,  unaware  of  the  fact  that  she  was  leavuig 
Helen  behind,  absorbed  as  she  was  in  her  occupation.  Once, 
as  she  stopped  to  closely  examine  a  body,  to  discover  if  life 
remained,  the  rays  of  her  lantern  fell  upon  the  figure  of  a  man 
only  a  few  yards  in  advance  of  her,  who  was  upon  his  knees, 
busily  engaged  at  something,  she  could  not  comprehend  at 
first.  As  her  light  flashed  upon  him,  however,  he  turned, 
hastily  thrusting  something  into  his  pocket  ^vith  a  very  guilty 
look.  His  features  were  now  exposed  to  full  view,  and  the 
truth  forced  itself  immediately  upon  her  mind. 

"Doctor  Grey!  you  here,  and  rifling  the  dead?" 

The  exclamation  escaped  her  lips  almost  before  she  was 
aware,  and  startled  him  into  a  confused  attempt  at  denial. 
Failing  to  get  through  well  with  a  self-defense,  he  blurted  out 
roughly : 

"  And  you — what  are  you  doing  here,  I'd  like  to  know  ? 
This  is  no  place  for  women." 

"My  business  is  apparent,  and  if  my  pockets  were  to  be 
searched,  surely  they  would  not  be  found  full  of  dead  men's 
property.     Doctor  Grey!  oh,  for  shame  to  stoop  so  low." 

"You'd  better  take  care.  Miss  Harmon,  or  rather  Mrs. 
Colonel — what's-your-name !  Do  you  suppose  I  don't  know 
all  about  you,  and  that  you  are  the  wife  of  a  rebel — the  worst 
kind  of  a  rebel,  too !  You  ride  a  mighty  high  horse — passing 
yourself  ofi^  for  a  young  lady,  and  trying  to  trap  some  young 
sprig  of  an  oflScer !  Captain  "^Yilfer,  maybe  ! " 

Astrea's  hand  shook  so  violently  with  suppressed  indigna- 
tion, that  the  lantern  sent  shimmerins;  streams  of  lijiht  alono; 
the  ground  to  the  Dactor's  feet.  He  saw  his  advantaoe,  and 
went  on  mercilessly: 

"Aha!  it  makes  you  tremble,  does  it?  You  see  I  know 
too  much  for  you  to  take  a  high  hand  with  me.  I  promised 
you  pa}Tnent  at  Paducah,  and  I've  given  you  a  taste  of  it  al- 
ready. What  got  Captain  AYilfer  into  trouble,  and  who 
caused  him  to  be  dismissed  the  service  for  meeting  flags  of 


AMONG    THE    DEAD    AND    DYING.  323 

truce  with  a  rebel  officer's  wife?  The  next  thing  you  know, 
you'll  find  yourself  in  prison  iis  a  rebel  spy,— if  you  haven't 
sense  enough  to  hold  your  tongue  where  your  own  interests 
are  at  stake,  and  keep  dark." 

Astrea  understood  it  all  now.  That  which  had  before  per- 
plexed her  was  all  made  clear  by  this  man's  attempt  to  intim- 
idate her.  This  was  why  General  Grant  had  questioned  her 
conccrnino-  Doctor  Grey,  whom  she  afterwards  learned  he  held 
under  arrest  for  some  cause,  and  subsequently  discharged,  Avith 
the  friendly  advice  that  he  should  leave  Corinth  at  once,  and 
not  venture  back  again.  Everybody  thought  he  was  gone, 
she  with  others,  until  she  came  upon  him  now,  engaged  in  his 
loathsome  occupation. 

"If  you  think  to  frighten  me,  and  thus  seal  my  lips  upon 
this  night's  deeds,  you  are  mistaken.  Doctor  Grey,"  she  said, 
straightening  herself  up  resolutely.  "  And  I  think  that  you 
will  soon  find  the  time  past  for  meanly  striving  to  put  others 
between  yourself  and  just  punishment.  If  Captain  Wilfcr  was 
dismissed  the  service,  what  befell  you  afterward,  and  how  does 
it.happen  that  you  are  here  to-night?  Whatever  he  has  suf- 
fered, it  has  been  through  his  own  generous  goodness  and  no- 
bility of  heart.  Never  a  deed  of  disloyalty  or  meanness  has 
stained  his  name.  If  your  own  history,  from  the  time  I  first 
knew  you  up  to  this  night,  could  be  revealed,  what  a  contrast 
it  would  form  to  Captain  >V lifer's  career!  You  told  me  when 
you  left  Paducah  that  you  held  a  Colonel's  commission,  and 
that  was  untrue.  You  were  a  jNIajor  only ;  but  why  were  you 
afterwards  drummed  out  of  the  regiment?  To  this  place  you 
came  by  contract,  and  have  done  what  better  men  would  not 
willingly  do — attended  the  sick  rebels  whom  we  had  confined 
here.  By  that  means  you  obtained  the  power  to  injure  Cai>- 
tain  Wilfer,  and  attempt  to  cast  suspicion  upon  me.  But  had 
you  accomplished  your  purpose,  I  think  this  night's  work 
mio-ht  have  o-iven  me  cause  for  a  new  hearing  on  account  of 
the  character  of  my  accuser." 

At  this  moment  a  group  of  men  were  seen  approaching  with 


324     A  STORY  or  the  great  rebellion. 

lanterns,  and  Doctor  Grey  broke  away  through  the  bushes  in 
alarm,  knowing  that  Astrea  would  not  spare  him  in  the  pres- 
ence of  others.  She  looked  around  hastily,  and  was  about  to 
call  them,  when  the  sight  of  Helen  sitting  upon  the  ground 
with  her  head  bowed  upon  both  hands  in  an  attitude  of  utter 
forgetfulness,  won  her  from  her  purpose,  and  she  went  quicldy 
to  her  friend.  Helen  had  taken  off  her  mantle  and  tenderly 
placed  it  under  the  dead  man's  head  for  a  pillow,  sitting  down 
beside  him  immediately  afterward,  and  losing  consciousness 
of  everything  but  her  crushing  grief. 

"Helen,  dear,  look  up." 

Astrea  touched  her  bowed  head  compassionately,  gently 
bending  to  lay  her  cheek  against  that  of  the  bereaved  wife. 
The  action  revealed  the  dead  man's  face,  and  brought  one  long, 
wild  scream  from  the  lips  of  the  beholder.  Helen  started  up 
in  affright  and  grasped  Astrea's  arm  convulsively. 

"What — what  is  it!  oh,  what  has  happened  now?" 

But  Astrea  did  not  heed  her.  "With  quick,  gasping  breath, 
she  had  commenced  tearing  the  contents  from  the  dead  man's 
pockets  and  examining  them  with  wild,  eager  eyes,  until  the 
positive  proofs  she  had  sought  were  in  her  hands. 

"The  curse,"  she  gasped, — "the  consequence  of  his  oath! 
He  has  met  a  fearful  death,  and  doomed  himself  to  punish- 
ment forever  and  forever! " 

By  this  time  Helen  had  roused  sufficiently  to  comprehend 
what  she  was  saying,  and  stammered  tremblingly. 

"But  you  may  be  mistaken!  " 

"  No,  no !  See — a  letter — '  F.  Passiver,  Tuscaloosa,  Ala.' — 
and  his  hat  with  his  name  inside — under  it  'Fourth  Alabama 
Cavalry.'     And  see,  a  Colonel's  stars  on  his  collar." 

As  Astrea's  excitement  increased,  her  companion  became 
calm  and  self-possessed.  With  an  arm  slipped  supportingly 
around  the  excited  woman's  waist,  she  took  the  letter  from 
her  shaking  fingers  and  opened  it. 

"  Be  quiet,  Astrea.  We  must  put  this  matter  beyond  all 
question.     I  will  read  the  letter." 


STRICKEN   AND    CHASTENED   ANEAV.  325 

The  eyes  of  both  were  bent  upon  the  delicate,  irregular 
chirography  of  the  pages,  but  Astrea  only  listened,  seeing 
dhnly  what  her  friend  read  in  a  steady  voice.  It  was  a  brief, 
strong  appeal  to  do  his  duty  as  a  man  and  a  soldier,  in  the 
cause  of  freedom ;  and  breathed  the  relentless  spirit  of  a  Spar- 
t  in  mother,  sending  forth  her  son  to  battle,  with  but  one  ob- 
ject at  heart — to  conquer  the  foe.  The  reader  got  on  very 
well  until  she  came  to  the  last  page  which  was  written  in  a 
still  more  irregular  hand,  and  was  touched  with  a  deeper  feel- 
ing of  tenderness.  It  bore  the  date  of  several  days  later,  and 
closed  Avith  the  crushing  words : 

"  And  now,  my  noble  boy,  how  can  I  add  to  all  you  have 
suffered,  this  last  terrible  blow!  You  have  known  how  the 
delicate  plant  committed  to  my  care,  has  drooped  and  faded 
each  day — but  can  you  bear  to  know  that  she  is  dead?  Yes, 
like  the  fair  petals  of  the  flower  whose  name  she  bore,  she 
drooped  under  the  scorching  rays  of  the  southern  sun,  and  I 
have  laid  her  away  under  the  church-yard  sod  Avith  many 
tears." 

"  My  child !  Lily !    Gone !  dead !     Oh,  my  God,  my  God ! " 

Down  upon  the  dead  man's  breast  she  sank,  stricken,  crushed, 
(ind  Helen's  strength  was  barely  sufficient  to  draw  her  up  to 
her  own  bosom,  where  she  pillowed  her  head  with  a  strange 
sense  of  resentment  that  it  should  have  touched  a  thing  which 
she  loathed  as  the  cause  of  all  the  o^reat  woe  which  had  fallen 
upon  the  poor  victim  of  an  adverse  fate.  She  struggled  up 
passionately  and  drew  her  aside,  beyond  the  possibility  of  con- 
tact. Then  taking  her  head  upon  her  knees,  she  sat  looking 
at  her  in  a  sort  of  bewildered  helplessness.  Their  positions 
were  nov/  strangely  reversed.  Only  a  fcAV  hours  before,  she 
had  been  the  helpless  one,  while  the  woman  in  her  arms  stood 
over  her,  pondering  the  question  of  life  and  death,  as  she  now 
vaguely  pondered  it.  Was  it  here  a  career  like  hers  was  to 
£nd,  after  all  of  hardship,  self-sacrifice  and  mental  suffering 
she  had  borne?  Had  the  angel  of  death  put  forth  his  hand 
and  smitten  her  from  the  life  preserved  through  fears,  and 


326  A   STORY   OF   THE    GREAT   REBELLION'. 

struo-orllng  hopes  that  were  little  better  than  despair?  It 
looked  strangely  like  it.  No  signs  of  life  Imgered  about  the 
blue  lips  and  waxen  features,  and  the  heavy  eyes  Avere  sealed 
as  though  never  to  open  again  upon  the  world  and  its  torment- 
ing phases  of  suffering.  She  was  ahnost  in  hopes  they  never 
might  open  again,  though  a  keen  sense  of  yearning  awoke  in 
her  own  heart  with  the  thought.  Loving  Astrea  so  tenderly, 
it  would  not  be  easy  to  give  her  up  now,  when  her  own  life 
was  like  a  vine  suddenly  torn  from  its  support,  with  quivering 
tendrils  broken  and  prostrate,  feebly  reachmg  out  for  some  ob- 
ject around  which  they  might  twine. 

An  end  was  put  to  her  meditations  by  those  whom  Astrea 
had  seen  a  few  moments  before,  and  who  now  came  upon  the 
strange  scene  w^th  loud  exclamations  of  surprise.  A  shower 
of  questions  were  poured  upon  Helen,  which  she  answered 
drearily,  in  a  cold,  passionless  tone.  The  strain  upon  her  had 
been  too  great,  and  they  saw  that  she  was  upon  the  verge  of 
insanity,  forbearing,  when  this  became  apparent,  to  question 
her  farther.  But  while  they  forbore  to  annoy  Helen,  it  did 
not  seem  out  of  place  to  grumble  among  themselves,  over  the 
"trouble  these  women  were  making  them.  They  had  enough 
to  do,  without  that,  but  supposed  it  would  not  do  to  let  them 
kill  themselves  after  thdt  fashion."  Considerable  discussion 
was  indulged  in  during  the  time  Astrea  was  being  transferred 
from  the  ground  to  a  stretcher,  that  she  might  be  carried  home, 
one  or  two  openly  censuring  the  commanders  for  allowing 
ladies  within  the  lines  under  such  circumstances.  ]Mrs.  Noble 
heard,  but  with  stolid  indifference,  seeming  to  care  for  nothing 
until  a  movement  of  Astrea's  announced  her  return  to  con- 
sciousness. Then  a  sudden  reaction  set  all  her  blood  tingling 
throuo-h  her  veins,  and  she  came  to  Astrea's  side  with  a  sharp 
decision  of  manner  that  Avas  startling  fi'om  its  suddenness. 

"  You  may  go  aAvay  and  let  us  alone !  We  do  not  need  youi' 
care,  and  will  not  have  it.     I  can  manage  this  lady  myself  I " 

She  stooped,  and  passing  her  arm  around  her  friend,  lifted 
her  to  her  feet  and  held  her  there  xmtil  she  could  steady  herself 


GIVING   CHRISTIAN   BURIAL.  327 

"Come,  darling,  and  I  will  take  you  back  to  the  house. 
These  people  are  moles,  and  can  see — understand  nothing." 

They  were  moving  slowly  away,  when  Mrs.  Noble,  remem- 
berinf>-  that  the  dead  man  lying  there  was  the  husband  of  her 
charge,  turned  hastily. 

"  That  man  is  a  rebel — a  villain,  who  well  deserved  the  fate 
which  has  befallen  him ;  but  for  the  sake  of  this  woman,  whose 
life  has  been  devoted  to  those  who  suffered  in  our  cause,  let 
him  have  a  Christian  burial.  Whatever  you  may  say  of  her, 
she  has  at  least  earned  this  at  your  hands." 

"Follow  them  in  case  they  should  need  help,"  commanded 
the  chief  of  the  ambulance  corps;  and  as  they  slowly  picked 
their  way  through  the  tangled  brush-wood,  two  soldiers  kept 
near  until  they  reached  the  hotel. 

On  the  afternoon  of  the  following  day,  Colonel  Passiver  was 
buried  apart  by  special  orders  from  General  Rosecrans,  and 
the  day  succeeding  that,  the  early  morning  train  bore  Astrea 
and  Helen,  with  the  remains  of  Major  Noble,  from  Corinth. 


CHAPTER  XXY. 

THE    CLOUD    AVITH    A    SILVER    LINING. 

A  BREAK  of  a  year  lies  between  the  present  chapter  and 
the  events  chronicled  in  our  last.  The  scene  has  changed 
from  the  battle-field  to  a  quiet  residence  in  New  York,  where 
we  find  our  friends  together,  occupying  the  same  apartments, 
and  inseparable.  Very  Kttle  change  has  come  to  either,  per- 
sonally. We  have  seen  them  in  suffering  and  danger,  and 
known  that  the}'  have  had  cause  for  the  loss  of  early  bloom 
and  freshness,  •^o  strongly  apparent  nov/  in  the  face  of  each. 
Perhaps  the  deep  mourning  robes  in  which  they  are  habited, 
serve  to  make  the  pallor  of  their  faces  more  striking ;  but  a 
serene,  calm  resignation  has  come  to  each,  not  altogetlier  fa- 
miliar. They  have  had  a  hard  battle  with  the  Inevitable,  and 
have  been  conquered.  Their  resignation  partakes  more  of  de- 
spair and  helplessness  than  submission ;  and  the  wounds  left 
in  the  conflict  are  still  too  tender  to  bear  any  rude  pressing. 
They  have  sought  and  found  refuge  from  the  world,  where 
they  may  pass  their  days  in  peace,  at  least,  if  the  nights  still 
leave  wet  pillows  where  each  have  lain. 

Helen  has  grown  much  slighter  than  when  we  last  saw  her, 
though,  of  the  two,  her  face  retains  more  of  life  and  hope. 
They  have  just  returned  from  a  walk  to  the  Battery,  and  laid 
aside  their  wrappings  to  sit  by  the  window  in  the  gathering 
twilight ;  Astrea,  roused  by  some  sudden  thought,  turns  to  hei; 
friend. 


NEITHER  FORSAKEN   NOR  FORGOTTEN.  329 

"  How  strange  it  seems  that  in  all  this  time,  we  never  should 
have  heard  of  Captain  Wilfcr.  He  made  me  promise  to  write 
to  him,  and  I  have  not  had  a  line  yet.  Do  you  suppose  he 
has  quite  forgotten  us?  or  is  he  dead?" 

"  Neither ! "  answered  Helen  rather  warmly,  rising  to  take 
a  package  of  papers  from  a  drawer  which  is  usually  kept 
locked.  From  the  packet  she  extracts  a  newspaper  and  hands 
it  to  Astrea,  and  watches  her  narrowly  while  she  reads  a 
marked  passage,  noting  the  promotion  of  Harry  Wilfer  to  a 
Colonelcy  for  meritorious  service.  The  article  is  very  compli- 
mentary, and  the  reader's  delicate  cheeks  flush  warmly,  kin- 
dling to  a  vivid  crimson. 

"Why,  Helen,  when  did  you  get  this?" 

"Three  weeks  ago.     He  sent  it  to  me." 

"And  you  never  told  me!  "Was  that  kind,  Helen?  Re- 
member what  he  has  done  for  me — what  he  has  suiFcrcd 
throuo-h  me!  Am  I  no  lon2;cr  worthy  the  confidence  of 
either  of  you?" 

"Oh,  no!  no!  don't  think  that !  "  cried  Helen,  hastily.  "I 
did  not  speak  to  you  of  him,,  because — because — can't  you 
guess,  Astrea?  He  was  afraid  to  write  you  because  he  could 
not  write  as  a  mere  brother  or  a  friend,  and  he  dared  not  write 
otherwise.  No  such  reason  existed  between  him  and  me,  and 
I  have  sometimes  penned  him  a  little  note  to  comfort  him  in 
his  loneliness  and  distress." 

Astrea's  head  drooped  a  little,  while  the  color  faded  slowly. 

"Forgive  me,  Helen;  I  did  not  mean  to  reproach  you. 
Has  he  written  you  often?" 

"Yes,  quite  often.     Would  you  like  to  see  the  letters?" 

"I  think  so.     Where  are  they?" 

"Here  in  this  package.  But,  darling,  can  you?  They  are 
nearly  all  about  you,  and — he  loves  you,  Astrea, '  desperately.' 
Can  you  bear  it?" 

"Not  yet!  not  yetV  covering  her  eyes  with  one  hand, 
while  she  puts  the  package  away  from  her  with  the  other. 
Then,  after  a  long  pause : 


830  A   STOKY   OF   THE    GREAT   REBELLION. 

"  How  did  he  find  you  out,  Helen  ?  " 

"  He  sent  me  one  letter,  it  seems,  just  after  entering  the 
army  of  the  Potomac.  Receiving  no  reply,  he  became  alarmed 
about  you,  and  wrote  to  me  to  ask  what  had  become  of  my 
friend.  I  answered  his  letter  which  followed  me  here,  sent  on, 
I  suspect,  by  General  Eosecrans'  order,  for  he  asked  me  the 
morning  we  left  Corinth,  where  we  should  go,  and  I  told  him. 
In  my  reply  I  told  him  all  that  had  befallen  us  both,  and 
begged  him  not  to  write  to  you  for  a  while  yet.  I  thought 
that  it  might  be  painful  to  you,  dear.  But  he  has  kept  up  the 
correspondence,  and  his  letters  were  so  good,  they  have  been 
to  me  priceless  treasures  in  my  sorrow.  I  have  longed  to 
have  you  share  them,  but  dared  not  until  some  sign  from  you 
should  open  a  way  to  the  subject.  These  are  more  yours  than 
mine,  and  they  will  do  you  good,"  slipping  the  letters  into  the 
hand  Avhich  had  fallen  upon  her  lap,  and  clasping  the  slender 
fingers  around  them.  "Keep  the  package,  and  look  at  them 
when  it  pleases  you — not  before." 

With  this  Helen  rose,  and,  leaving  a  kiss  upon  Astrea's 
forehead,  glided  into  the  adjoining  room  and  closed  the  door 
between. 

Long  after  Helen's  head  had  pressed  the  pillow  that  night, 
her  cheek  wet  with  the  tears  she  bravely  hid  from  her  com- 
panion, Astrea  sat  in  a  rocking-chair  in  their  little  parlor  and 
unbound  the  package  which  she  scarcely  had  the  courage  to 
open.  Her  eyes  ached  for  the  sight  of  those  lines  which  she 
knew  were  full  of  the  tender  sweetness  for  which  her  heart 
had  yearned  hopelessly,  and  yet  something  in  the  memory  of 
the  past  made  her  shrink  from  what  she  most  wished  to  see. 
Whenever  she  had  thought  of  Captain  Wilfer,  it  was  always 
with  that  dead  face  between,  as  she  saw  it  on  that  terrible 
night  at  Corinth.  The  wide-spreading  gloom  of  night  had 
seemed  to  settle  into  a  yawning  gulf,  while  the  pale  stars 
faded  out,  leaving  only  an  impenetrable  darkness  into  which 
no  ray  of  light  could  strike,  and  she  had  striven  to  keep 
away  those  thoughts  which  were  so  fruitful  of  pain.     But 


FROM    DARKNESS    TO    DAYLIGHT.  331 

now!  now  a  bridge  seemed  laid  across  the  chasm,  and  she 
pressed  it  with  trembhng  feet,  longing  to  rush  over  into  the 
light  and  warmth  beyond.  Was  it  a  temptation?  Dared  she 
venture  out  of  her  gloom  so  soon,  almost  before  the  grass 
could  spring  greenly  upon  the  dead  man's  grave?  Her  heart 
was  stru<i-oling  for  the  light,  and  rose  up  from  that  strife  to 
throw  off  the  sickening  bonds  of  conventionality.  What  was 
the  world  to  her  that  could  care  now,  whether  it  criticised 
her  or  not?  -And  what  had  her  past  been,  that  she  should 
shield  it  so  tenderly  for  her  own  weary  eyes,  not  yet  drained 
of  the  tears  it  had  wrung  from  her? 

"•I  have  nothing  on  earth,"  she  said  mentally.  "Shall 
I  shut  myself  out  from  all  hope  of  future  peace  and  joy  as 
well?  I  live  now  because  I  must,  but  shall  it  always  be  so? 
Were  it  not  better  to  let  something  slip  into  my  life  that  can 
give  it  an  aim,  or  an  interest?  The  saddest  of  all  things  on 
earth,  is  an  immortal  soul  encased  in  an  unwilling  body ;  and 
that  body  slowly  dragging  its  burthen  from  day  to  day  because 
it  dares  not  set  it  free,  and  the  time  has  not  yet  come  for  death 
to  open  the  prison  doors.  No  warm,  sweet  motive  for  life 
links  the  soul  with  its  casket.  Only  a  duU  blank,  and  a 
vague,  ceaseless  yearning  to  lie  down  to  dreamless  sleep  on 
the  part  of  the  one — the  other,  at  times  sharply  struggling  to 
be  free.  Oh,  no,  I  cannot  Hve  on  in  this  way ! "  with  sudden 
enero-v.  "  If  I  do  not  find  somethmg  to  hold  me  to  life,  the 
tempter  will  sooner  or  later,  woo  me  to  self-destruction." 

One  after  another  the  broad,  generous  sheets  were  unfolded 
now,  and  her  eyes  drank  in  their  contents  hungrily.  The 
clear,  bold  hand  gave  character  to  the  manly  sentiments  of 
affection  which  he  must  breathe  to  some  one,  and  which  deli- 
cacy forbade  that  he  should  pour  into  the  ears  of  its  object. 
He  longed  to  fly  to  her  and  hold  forth  his  arms,  offering  her 
the  shelter  of  their  strength,  and  the  love  that  was  like  a  broad, 
deep  stream  in  its  mightiness.  But  he  feared  to  come  to  her 
in  her  deep  and  bitter  woe,  lest  he  should  cause  her  to  shrink 
away  from  him,  and  destroy  the  hopes  he  had  dared  to  cherish 


332       A  STORY  OF  THE  GREAT  REBELLION". 

in  his  secret  dreams  of  the  future.  Thus  she  read  on,  pao-e 
after  page,  sheet  after  sheet,  filled  with  that  one  theme,  and 
as  she  read,  she  saw  that  the  hope  grew  in  stature  as  it  seemed 
to  come  nearer  to  her,  claiming  their  mutual  friend  as  a  link 
between  which  might  soon  unite  them  with  the  blissfulness  of 
actual  presence.  The  last  letter  was  of  verj  recent  date,  and 
said:  "I  only  wait  your  bidding  now,  to  come  and  stand  face 
to  face  with  my  love,  that  I  may  ask  her  to  let  me  take  her 
little  hands  and  draw  her  up  into  the  warm,  rich  light  of  a 
matchless  devotion.  Oh,  my  friend,  how  much  longer  will 
you  make  me  w^ait?  Be  quick!  I  grow  impatient,  and  if 
you  do  not  hasten  to  bid  me  come,  I  shall  break  through  re- 
strictions, and,  perhaps  destroy  all  hope  by  throwing  myself 
at  her  feet  unawares." 

Soft  tears  fell  upon  the  page,  slowly  dropping  like  sliining 
dew  upon  rich  verdure.  The  lips  smiled  with  a  touch  of  the 
old  sweetness  as  the  little  hands  clasped  their  treasures  in 
kneeling  down  beside  the  chair  she  had  occupied.  Through 
the  open  shutters  a  shower  of  silvery  rays  filtered  through  the 
locust  boughs  over  her  head.  She  had  extino-uished  the  lio^ht, 
and  now  for  a  long  time  knelt  there  in  silence,  mutely  whisper- 
ing in  her  heart  all  that  she  was  learning  to  hope  for.  The 
soft,  sweet  smile  had  not  yet  faded  when  she  crept  to  her  place 
at  Helen's  side,  and  lingered  there  through  the  hours  she  slept. 
The  latter  woke  from  a  troubled  sleep,  with  the  first  bright 
rays  of  morning,  and  seeing  that  rare  expression  upon  her 
friend's  face,  read  it  joyfully.  Stealing  from  her  side,  she  sat 
down  before  her  little  desk,  and  with  glad  tears  in  her  sweet, 
brown  eyes,  penned  a  hasty  note  to  Colonel  Wilfer.  As  she 
was  sealing  it  with  a  dainty  touch  of  her  delicate  fingers,  As- 
trea  lifted  her  head  from  the  pillow  where  it  had  rested  and 
spoke. 

"To  whom  are  you  writing,  Helen?" 

"To — "  then  she  hesitated. 

"^>Vhom?" 

••Colonel  Wilfer.     To  whom  else  should  I  write?" 


A   LITTLE   SUNLIGHT   ONCE   MORE.  333 

"And  you  have  told  him  that  he  may  come,  I  suppose?" 

"Yes,  darling  mine.     Was  I  wrong?" 

She  left  the  letter,  and  crossing  the  room,  laid  her  arm  ten- 
derly over  Astrea's  shoulder. 

"Did  I  not  read  aright  the  sweet  smile  that  I  saw  upon 
your  lips  when  I  awoke  this  morning,  and  which  has  not  glad- 
dened my  eyes  for  so  many  weary  months  ?  We  have  become 
more  than  friends,  Asti'ea,  in  our  unity  of  trials,  and  have 
been  forced  through  love  and  necessity  to  share  each  other's 
burthens  until  neither  can  stand  alone  under  a  storm  without 
the  other's  support.  Shall  we  be  divided  in  the  coming  sun- 
shine? Shall  not  I,  who  have  learned  to  love  you  with  a  sis- 
ter's devotion,  share  some  of  the  joy  that  lies  in  your  future, 
by  asserting  to  place  it  in  your  possession?  If  I  seem  over- 
eager  and  officious,  pardon  me,  dearest,  for  I  am  very  deso- 
late, and  must  have  something  to  ease  the  aching  void  in  my 
heart.  For  me  there  is  nothing  else- in  this  world,  than  your 
happiness." 

"Helen,  darling!" 

Astrea's  eyes  had  filled,  and  her  arms  closed  impulsively 
around  the  figure  which  trembled  at  her  side,  with  the  sobs 
that  broke  an  effort  to  suppress  them.  She  was  touched  in- 
expressibly by  the  tone  of  the  sad  words,  as  well  as  the  un- 
selfish devotion  of  the  poor  desolate  one,  who,  as  she  had  said 
herself,  had  no  other  now  to  care  for  than  her  friend  whose 
path  had  been  marked  providentially  to  run  parallel  with  her 
own.  For  a  few  moments  they  wept  together,  then  Astrea's 
hand  stole  caressingly  into  Helen's  brown  hair  as  she  added 
softly : 

"  Sister  dear,  you  have  not  done  wrong,  and  I  thank  you, 
oh,  so  much,  for  the  care  you  bestow  upon  me.  I  do  not  de- 
serve it,  for  I  have  been  a  gloomy  companion,  chilling  you 
with  the  shadow  of  my  own  hopelessness  all  this  weary  while, 
when  you  had  more  than  enough  grief  of  your  own.  The 
only  objection  I  would  make  to  the  step  you  are  taking  for 
my  sake,  is  its  haste.     It  seems  so  strange,  so  sudden,  and — 


334  A    STORY   OF    THE    GREAT   REBELLIOX. 

SO  sweet,  after  so  mnch  of  suffering  and  dread.  It  is  no 
wonder  if  I  thought  he  had  forgotten  me ;  men  are  so  unlike 
women.  And  then  he  had  never  spoken  his  love,  for  he  could 
not,  honorably,  and  I  did  not  suppose  he  could  know  what 
had  happened.  I  must  do  myself  the  justice  to  say  that  I 
did  not  even  wish  it,  Helen,  for  I  was  too  crushed  and  remorse- 
ful to  look  to  the  future  of  this  life  with  anything  of  hope. 
I  was  wrapped  up  in  grief  for  my  lost  Lily,  and  sorrow  for  the 
curse  I  brought  upon  his  head,  when  he  took  the  oath  which 
he  broke  so  fearfully.  If  I  thought  of  this  man  at  all,  it  was 
with  a  feeling  that  made  me  tremble,  and  shrink  away,  for  I 
could  never  separate  the  two,  which  is  but  natural,  after  all, 
when  we  remember  how  strangely  they  were  brought  together 
and  associated  in  my  mind.  That  Harry  Wilfer  loved  me 
once,  I  knew  only  too  well,  and  that  was  a  part  of  my  torture 
Avhen  in  spite  of  right,  honor  and  pride  I  was  forced  to  acknowl- 
edge that  his  love  touched  a  responsive  chord  in  my  own 
heart.  There  was  no  fear,  for  we  were  both  wise  through 
sorrow,  and  our  lips  were  sealed  upon  the  words  we  dared  not 
sj)eak.  But  I  would  not  do  him  the  injustice  to  thrust  aside 
the  friendship  he  so  nobly  offered  me,  warm  and  true  from  the 
ashes  of  his  own  lost  hopes,  and  I  could  have  been  his  friend 
always,  had  not  fate  changed  the  circumstances  of  our  lives. 
After  what  happened  at  Corinth,  I  more  than  once  recalled 
his  promise  to  write  to  me,  but  always  with  dread,  for  I  had 
pledged  myself  to  tell  him  everything  which  befell  me,  and  it 
seemed  as  if  I  could  never  tell  him  that!  As  time  went  on 
and  no  message  came,  the  thought  that  he  might  have  been 
wounded  or  killed  annoyed  me ;  but  at  length  I  reasoned  tliat 
in  such  a  case,  I  should  have  seen  the  news  in  the  papers,  or 
heard  it  from  some  one.  This  idea  banished,  the  only  Avay 
left  to  account  for  his  silence,  was  that  he  had  become  interested 
elsewhere.  He  was  so  young,  needing  the  sympathy  and  af- 
fection, in  his  strong  nature,  which  he  never  could  hojie  to 
win  from  me  as  he  wished,  and  it  would  not  have  been  wrong 
or  unnatural  for  him  to  reason  the  matter  more  calmly,  with 


WISDOM   FROM   BITTER   EXPERIENCE.  335 

a  great  space  between  us,  and  decide  it  the  wisest  course  to 
forget  nic.  Perhaps  you  will  think  it  very  strange  if  I  tell 
you  that  I  even  hoped  it  might  be  so.  I  have  so  long  felt  that 
I  could  not  summon  courage  to  own  my  affection  for  him,  and 
I  loved  him  so  truly  that  I  desired  his  happiness  above  my 
own.  Ah,  how  noble  he  has  been !  My  heart  grows  so  warm 
and  glad  now,  to  think  that  Jie  had  nothing  to  do  with — his 
death  I     I  could  not  have  borne  that!''' 

Helen  had  grown  calm  in  listening,  and  now  said,  more  to 
herself  than  to  her  companion : 

"  I  am  rejoiced  to  hear  you  say  so  frankly  that  you  love 
him.  He  deserves  to  have  the  woman  he  loves,  to  avow  it 
with  that  noble  independence  which  you  show  in  owning  it  to 
me — and  would  to  others,  were  it  necessary.  But  it  seems  so 
very  strange,  yes  so  very  strange  that  you  could  ever  dare  to 
love  again  after  that  experience.  I  think  if  I  had  ever  borne 
such  suffering  through  such  a  source,  I  should  be  afraid  to 
trust  my  happiness  to  any  man's  keeping." 

Astrea's  eyes  deepened  and  dilated,  then  settled  into  a  calm 
expression  as  she  answered  slowly: 

"  I  have  always  thought  so  until  lately — that  is,  within  the 
last  year,  or  a  little  more,  perhaps.  But  I  have  gained  some- 
thing of  wisdom  through  my  bitter  experiences,  and  I  can 
now  see  that  something  more  of  the  fault  was  mine  than  I 
knew.  I  was  too  young  to  know  what  I  required  in  my  hus- 
band. I  took  too  much  for  granted,  and  did  not  wait  to  study 
the  character  of  the  man  whose  handsome  person  and  polished 
manner  seemed  to  mirror  everything  that  was  noble,  manly, 
and  calculated  to  hold  a  woman's  love.  I  ought  first  to  have 
understood  what  my  own  nature  required  that  I  should  find  in 
a  companion,  whose  being  must  be  so  closely  woven  Avith  one's 
very  self;  and  then  I  ought  to  have  known  if  he  had  the  na- 
ture to  meet  those  requirements.  Here  is  the  secret  of  the 
mistake  so  many  unhappily  make ;  and  when  our  golden  idols 
change  to  clay,  and  we  vainly  yearn  for  the  flown  brilliance 
which  dazzled  our  sight,  and  can  come  no  more,  whom  liave 


336        A  STORY  OF  THE  GREAT  REBELLION. 

■We  to  blame  most?  Few  of  us  will  acknowledge  our  own 
share,  and  yet,  alas,  the  fault  Kes  largely  at  our  door.  It  is 
human  nature  to  find  every  other  explanation  for  our  woes, 
than  that  which  would  betray  our  own  blindness,  folly,  rash- 
ness or  carelessness.  Oh,  if  the  lessons  we  receive,  could  only 
teach  us  wisdom  in  our  own  actions,  and  turn  our  critical 
glances  more  within  ourselves  and  less  to  others  for  the  true 
causes  of  our  sufferings,  how  much  might  be  spared  us  that 
is  not." 

"  So  of  course  you  are  taking  the  blame  upon  yourself  for 
all  that  has  ever  happened  to  break  your  heart  and  darken  your 
life  with  misery!" 

"  Xo,  I  am  not.  That  would  be  injustice  and  affectation. 
But  I  am  not  blameless.  I  was  very  proud  and  self-willed,  and 
I  thought  I  owed  it  to  my  self-respect  to  say  bitter  and  cut- 
ting things  against  the  evils  which  exasperated  me.  Often,  I 
might  have  done  my  duty,  maintained  my  dignity,  and  yet  left 
unsaid  words  that  sank  deep  and  rankled  in  a  nature  wholly 
opposed  to  mine.  Yet,  if  my  mistakes  were  many,  bitterly 
have  I  been  made  to  atone  tor  them.  Looking  upon  my  be- 
reavement as  a  part  of  the  atonement,  I  have  been  able  to  bear 
it ;  otherwise  I  could  not.  Oh,  Helen,  my  heart  is  opened 
now,  and  I  can  speak  as  I  have  never  before  spoken  to  any 
one.  The  habit  has  so  grown  upon  me  to  keep  my  thoughts 
and  my  yearnings  to  myself.  But  I  loved  my  child  as  I  think 
few  mothers  can  love,  for  all  loves  seemed  centered  in  her. 
My  mother  was  dead  and  my  father  gone  beyond  reach  of  my 
great  needs.  In  my  husband  I  had  been  disappointed,  and 
while  my  grief  was  boundless  for  the  little  one  who  came  un- 
welcomely,  to  find  no  place  in  her  father's  heart  and  arms,  I 
gave  her  that  which  was  strong  enough  to  supply  the  loss. 
Day  after  day  I  sat  with  her  in  my  arms,  looking  at  the  rosy 
lips,  soft,  velvety  cheeks  and  fathomless  eyes  with  a  deep  love 
that  was  idolatry  in  itself.  At  night  I  would  steal  her  from 
her  crib  to  my  bosom,  that  I  might  feel  the  wandering  touch 
of  her  baby  hands,  and  the  precious  head  nestling  close  against 


SAD   MEMORIES    REVIVED.  337 

my  heart.  The  very  grief  she  caused  me,  strengthened  the 
nature  of  my  love — the  fears  that  arose  for  her  future,  drew  me 
nearer  to  her  with  an  instinct  for  protection  only  a  fearful 
mother  can  feel.  With  all  this,  I  was  so  proud  that  I  did  not 
complain  when  he  sent  her  away  from  me,  and  made  her  nurse 
sleep  with  her  up  stairs,  while  he  kept  me  locked  in  my  room. 
I  would  not  let  him  see  the  sufferino;  he  caused  me  in  robbins 
me  of  her  presence.  But  I  had  some  relief  in  being  able  to 
steal  to  her  as  she  slept,  and  kiss  her  warm,  soft  cheek.  If 
I  could  not  have  done  that,  perhaps  my  pride  would  have 
yielded  to  my  longing." 

Here  Astrea  paused,  and  Helen's  wistful  eyes  begged  her 
to  go  on,  though  her  lips  would  not  frame  the  request,  as  she 
saw  the  color  fading  swiftly  from  the  mother's  cheeks  which 
excitement  had  called  up. 

"  You  want  to  know  all,"  she  said  at  last,  with  a  short  gasp. 
"  Oh,  I  can't,  I  can't!  The  memory  of  that  last  act  will  make 
me  hate  the  dead,  if  I  dare  to  linger  over  it!  I  see  her  now, 
with  her  little  arms  stretched  to  me,  her  sweet  mouth  quiver- 
ing with  pain  and  aifright  as  he  bore  her  away,  leaving  me 
bound  fast  to  my  chair  until  he  could  send  her  beyond  my 
reach !  Poor  Nettie  had  been  sent  off  to  Tuscaloosa  on  pre- 
tense of  punishing  her  for  some  misdemeanor,  and  that  was 
the  last  I  saw  of  her  faithful  face,  for  she  did  love  me,  poor 
girl !  ^Vnd  Lily ! — I  heard  her  give  a  sobbing  cry  for  '  mam- 
ma ' — the  last  thing  for  sight  and  memory,  the  grieved  little 
face  and  heart-broken  cry !  If  passion  had  not  given  birth 
to  a  desire  for  revenge,  I  should  have  gone  mad  then  and 
there !  But  I  thirsted  for  the  day  to  come  when  I  might  claim 
and  keep  her  in  spite  of  him !  It  bore  me  up,  and  I  lived  for 
that  until  other  objects  came  In  my  way  and  helped  me  with 
the  burthen  of  my  life,  as  I  began  to  faint  and  grow  despair- 
ing. Oh,  you  know  it  all — all !  and  what  it  has  all  come  to. 
How  the  future  suddenly  seemed  to  become  blank,  and  I  no 
longer  looked  for  each  coming  day  to  bring  me  nearer  to  the 
only  joy  that  could  be  mine.  I  had  a  great  hope  while  she 
22 


338       A  STORY  OF  THE  GREAT  REBELLION. 

lived,  if  I  did  at  times  long  for  death  in  my  seasons  of  de- 
spairing helplessness.     But  now  one  httle  grave  holds  it  all! " 

"  One  little  grave  holds  it  all ! "  repeated  Helen  vrith  a  sob. 
"Oh!  God!  that  so  small  a  spot  of  thy  earth,  should  hold 
all  the  world  for  so  many  of  thy  creatures!  and  leave  them 
so  desolate  and  lonely." 

The  sound  of  weeping  broke  the  stillness  of  the  room  pain- 
fully, dying  away  only  when  they  had  exhausted  their  tears. 
Then  a  softer,  tenderer  mood  followed,  and  they  knelt  side  by 
side,  pleading  in  their  loneliness  and  sorrow,  for  that  comfort 
and  strength  and  resignation,  which  One  alone  can  give. 
After  that  both  grew  more  cheerful,  and  prepared  for  the 
duties  of  the  day  with  lighter  hearts  than  usual,  though  their 
manner  was  very  subdued  as  they  partook  of  their  breakfast, 
which  was  always  served  in  their  own  room,  and  afterwards 
turned  to  their  respective  occupations.  Helen's  was  at  her 
easel,  where  she  painted  the  rarest  little  pictures  of  still  Hfe 
that  ever  grew  under  the  brush  of  artist.  Astrea's  pen  and 
her  brush,  supplied  them  with  more  than  enough  for  their 
simple  wants,  and  served  to  pass  the  time  in  which  neither 
had  held  any  keen,  warm  interest  until  now.  But  out  of  the 
blackness  of  the  cloud  overshadowing  them,  a  soft,  bright 
lio;ht  was  breaking;,  and  would  soon  reach  down  to  touch  those 
young  faces  back  to  life  and  hope  and  beauty.  Thank  God, 
it  is  the  blessing  of  life  when  bereavements  that  must  come, 
visit  us  in  youth,  for  then  we  may  hope  to  outlive  them,  and 
build  up  new  interests  upon  the  ashes  of  those  which  have 
passed  away. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

LOVE  FROM  AN  UNEXPECTED  QUARTER. 

It  was  the  custom  of  the  ladies  to  walk  every  afternoon 
when  the  weather  was  pleasant,  and  through  this  custom  they 
one  day  came  in  contact  with  an  old  acquaintance.  Some- 
times they  went  to  the  Park,  where  they  could  sit  quietly 
with  a  book  for  an  hour,  or  watch  the  living  stream  of  hu- 
manity as  It  flowed  past,  but  afterward,  it  was  to  the  Battery 
they  bent  their  steps,  where  they  could  watch  the  vessels 
skimming  over  the  water,  with  their  snowy  sails  spread.  One 
day  as  they  walked  down  Broadway,  just  after  passing  the  St. 
Nicholas,  they  became  aware  that  some  one  was  following 
them,  and  quickened  their  pace  in  some  uneasiness,  but  the 
man  pressed  forward  more  rapidly  still,  and  in  a  moment  had 
gained  their  side. 

"  Miss  Harmon,  I  owe  you  an  apology  for  the  rudeness  of 
following  you,  and  perhaps  giving  you  a  fright.  But  I  saw 
you  pass,  and  could  not  resist  the  pleasure  of  a  word  with  you. 
Am  I  forgiven  and  made  welcome?  I  have  so  long  wished 
for  such  a  moment  as  this?  Mrs.  Xoble,  I  presume,"  boAving 
to  Helen.  "  You  see  I  do  not  forget  names,  though  I  scarcely 
had  an  opportunity  to  speak  to  your  friend  during  that  trip  up 
the  river.  Pray  tell  me  of  yourselves  and  your  fortunes  since 
I  saw  you.  I  have  heard  something,  but  not  half  as  much  as 
I  wish.     You  are  living  here  now?" 

"Yes,"  answered  Astrea,  laughing  at  the  breathless  rapidity 
of  his  long  speech.     His  manner  was  so  heartily  cordial,  and 


840  A   STORY   OF   THE    GEEAT   REBELLION. 

lie  looked  so  manly  In  his  evident  delight,  she  could  not  resist 
the  keen  sense  of  pleasure  she  felt  in  meeting  him.  "  But,  do 
not  my  eyes  deceive  me,  Mr.  Meridan  ?  It  cannot  be  possible 
that  you  are  in  the  service?" 

A  rich,  warm  glow  mounted  to  his  forehead  as  he  answered : 

"  Yes,  it  is  possible,  as  you  see.  I  met  with  an  old  friend 
of  yours,  Captain — now  Colonel  Wilfer,  who  persuaded  me  to 
take  a  Captaincy  in  his  regiment,  and  it  is  the  best  thing  I 
ever  did  in  my  life.  We  have  pleasant  times  together,  I  as- 
sure you,  and  are  as  happy  as  larks.  But  you  have  not  told 
me  one  word  about  yourself,  and  Mrs.  Noble  does  not  look 
as  if  she  was  sure  that  she  has  ever  seen  me  before  at  all." 

"  O,  yes,  I  remember  you  now,  very  well,"  answered  Helen, 
"  and  that  I  should  still  owe  you  a  grudge  for  conspiring  with 
Miss  Harmon  against  me,  had  not  Fate  taken  your  punishment 
into  her  own  hands.  You  got  rather  a  serious  fall  that  day, 
did  you  not,  Captain  Meridan?" 

"Bather.  I  am  not  sure  but  it  would  have  terminated  my 
erratic  career  altogether,  had  it  not  been  for  the  very  prompt 
assistance  of  your  companion.  I  have  always  held  myself  in- 
debted to  her  for  my  life,"  with  a  shy  glance  at  the  pale,  sweet 
face,  shadowed  by  its  weeds  so  somberly.  "  And  yet,  do  you 
know,"  he  added  more  pointedly,  "that  she  would  not  give 
me  even  the  poor  privilege  of  thanking  her  for  what  she  had 
done?  To  see  or  hear  from  her  ever  again,  was  not  to  be 
thought  of,  and  I  owe  it  to  accident  that  I  have  once  more  had 
the  grateful  pleasure  of  clasping  her  hand.  "Was  she  not 
cruel  to  me,  Mrs.  Noble?" 

For  a  moment  Helen  was  at  a  loss  how  to  answer,  knowing 
why  Astrea  had  chosen  to  repulse  his  advances;  but  with  a 
woman's  usual  tact,  she  smiled  and  said  lightly: 

"  O,  you  know  she  could  never  tell  one  day  where  she  might 
be  the  next,  and  it  would  have  been  rather  a  difficult  matter 
to  keep  sight  of  her.     How  long  have  you  been  in  the  city  ?  " 

"  Only  a  very  short  time,  and  must  be  off  again  in  a  day  or 
two.     When  I  go  back,  Wilfer  talks  of  taking  a  little  rest, 


"VVOOIXG   WITHOUT  WINNING.  341 

and  will  probably  run  over  to  the  city.  I  will  tell  him  that  I 
found  you  here." 

The  ladies  exchanged  glances,  but  walked  on  without  re- 
mark, listening  to  his  spirited  stories  of  army  life,  until  they 
had  reached  the  Battery.  Here,  after  being  seated,  he  con- 
tinued to  entertain  them  with  his  adventures  until  the  low 
sinking:  of  the  sun  warned  them  that  it  was  time  to  return 
home.  Captain  Meridan  begged  to  be  allowed  to  accompany 
them,  and  when  they  reached  the  door,  did  not  hesitate  to  ac- 
cept the  invitation  to  enter  and  remain  to  tea.  But  he  had 
the  grace  to  make  a  short  visit  only,  and  contented  himself 
with  asking  permission  to  "run  in  again  before  he  left  town." 

Astrea  accompanied  him  to  the  door,  remarking: 

"  Of  course  we  shall  be  pleased  to  see  you  whenever  you 
are  at  leisure.  I  am  as  much  interested  in  what  you  have  to 
tell  us,  as  I  am  surprised  to  see  you  in  uniform.  I  never  ex* 
pected  it,  for  I  never  quite  forgot  that  conversation  on  the 
Lancaster,  in  which  you  expressed  some  uncomplimentary 
sentiments." 

He  laughed,  coloring  deeply,  then  lifted  his  eyes  to  her  face 
with  a  wistful  glance. 

"Ah,  you  might  forget  that  portion  of  it!  I  don't  know, 
either !  You  see  it  is  all  owing-  to  the  softer  influences  which 
are  brought  to  bear  upon  a  man,  Miss  Harmon.  I  did  not 
have  a  very  exalted  opinion  of  things  in  general,  until  I  met 
a  dear  little  woman  who  was  the  soul  of  patriotism;  and  in 
learning  to  love  her,  I  learned  to  love  the  country  she  cher- 
ished. She  taught  me  true  manliness,  and  for  her  sake  I 
took  up  arms  in  behalf  of  the  Government  she  risked  every- 
thing to  serve.  If  she  ever  condescends  to  smile  upon  me,  I 
shall  be  more  than  repaid  for  the  little  I  have  been  able  to  do." 

He  did  not  look  at  her,  and  no  thought  entered  her  mind 
of  his  true  meaning.  Her  face  beamed  sweetly  bright  as  she 
answered : 

"  I  hope  you  may  have  your  reward.  Captain  Meridan.  It 
is  noble  in  you  to  give  America  the  strength  of  your  arm  in 


842  A   STOEY    OF   TELE    GEEAT   EEBELLIOX. 

her  need."  Then,  as  he  took  her  hand:  "We  shall  see  you 
to-morrow  evenino;?" 

"Yes,  if  allowed  to  carry  out  my  own  mchnations,  most 
assuredly,  Miss  Harmon." 

"Pardon — I  must  correct  your  manner  of  addressing  me. 
I  am  known  here  as  Mrs.  Passiver." 

"  Ah,  pray  excuse  me !  I  did  hear  something  about — but 
I  did  not  remember,  and  am  so  accustomed  to  the  other  name ! 
Good-night." 

She  saw  him  spring  lightly  across  the  street  and  walk 
quickly  down  upon  the  other  side,  his  face  uplifted  in  the 
moonlight  with  a  joyous  expression.  He  had  not  thought  it 
a  sin  to  tell  her  an  untruth,  but  through  Colonel  Wilfer  he 
had  learned  the  whole  of  her  history,  and  drawn  his  own 
secret  hopes  from  the  facts,  though  he  did  not  yet  dare  to  hint 
them.  Several  days  passed,  and  Captain  Meridan  had  not 
yet  returned  to  his  regiment.  He  found  it  very  convenient  to 
be  always  expecting  to  go  at  any  hour,  and  presumed  upon 
the  liberty  of  "running  in  whenever  he  could  before  leaving." 
Never  a  word  was  allowed  to  escape  his  lips  to  give  her  any 
alarm,  but  the  spell  of  her  presence  had  deepened  upon  him, 
and  he  found  it  harder,  each  day,  to  leave  her  side.  The 
prospect  of  a  final  parting,  with  a  doubt  of  ever  meeting  again, 
rested  very  heavily  upon  his  spirits ;  but  he  concealed  the  op- 
pression, and  kept  up  his  gay,  cheerful  exterior  to  the  last  day 
of  his  stay.  He  was  to  have  called  upon  them  for  the  last 
time  in  the  evening,  intending  to  take  the  night  train  for 
Washington.  But  as  he  came  up  Broadway  in  the  afternoon, 
he  saw  Helen  entering  a  store,  and  the  temptation  for  a  few 
moments'  chat  with  Astrea  alone,  was  too  strono;  to  be  resisted. 
He  turned  quickly,  and  in  a  short  time  found  Mrs.  Passiver 
engaged  at  her  desk  in  the  quiet  parlor.  She  received  him 
with  some  surprise,  but  cheerfully  left  her  employment  to  en- 
tertain him.  He  "  regretted  to  disturb  her,  but  found  that  he 
must  go  earlier  than  he  had  anticipated,  and  had  hastened  to 
say  good-bye.     Where  was  Mrs.  Xoble?" 


WOOING    WITHOUT   WINNING.  343 

"She  is  shopping  a  little,"  answered  Astrea  innocently, 
"  but  will  soon  return.  AVe  shall  miss  you,  Captain,  our  lives 
have  bden  so  very  quiet  and  retired  until  you  came.  It  is  like 
seeing  an  old  friend  leave  us." 

He  was  "  sure  that  the  regret  of  going  must  be  much  deeper 
on  his  part.  He  had  spent  some  charming  hours  with  them," 
and  then  he  grew  so  very  uneasy  and  restless,  Astrea  could 
not  avoid  remarking  it,  with  a  hope  that  nothing  unusual  had 
occurred  to  disturb  him. 

"  Nothing  at  all,  thank  you.  And  yet  I  am  troubled,  Mrs. 
Passiver,  and  do  not  know  whether  I  dare  explain  the  cause 
of  my  distress.  ^lay  I  tell  you  something  that  very  nearly 
concerns  my  happiness?  I  have  no  lady  friends  beside  to 
whom  I  can  speak,  and  I  need  sympathy." 

"  Certainly,  if  you  desire  to  honor  me  with  your  confidence, 
Captain  Meridan,"  she  answered,  but  her  manner  was,  uncon- 
sciously, a  little  constrained  and  cold.  Nevertheless  he  brought 
a  chair  nearer,  and  began  earnestly : 

"It  will  not  take  me  long  to  say  what  I  wish,  since  I  am  a 
man  of  plain  speech  and  manner.  I  came  to  this  country  quite 
young,  and  for  my  pleasure,  taking  more  delight  in  criticising 
what  I  considered  its  faults  and  weaknesses,  than  in  the  vast 
and  matchless  array  of  beauties  it  presented  to  my  gaze.  I 
had  an  Englishman's  pride,  and  something  of  an  Englishman's 
bigotry — the  latter  trait  being  owned  now  with  shame,  and 
out  of  which  arose  a  disposition  to  exalt  my  own  native  coun- 
try, while  this  was  depreciated  in  f)roportion.  I  went  every- 
where, saw  everything,  and  made  light  of  everything  American, 
often  against  my  better  judgment,  and  out  of  pure  perversity, 
until  it  was  my  lot  to  be  shamed  by  a  woman  into  a  more  just 
and  earnest  observation.  A  fair  young  creature  was  thrown 
in  my  way,  who  coml)ined  in  her  character  all  the  lovable  traits 
of  human  nature.  She  was  very  singular — at  once  strong  and 
gentle,  earnest  and  sweet,  and  so  pure  and  lofty  in  her  princi- 
ples, I  never  had  been  forced  to  acknowledge  woman's  true 
worth  until  then.     When  I  first  saw  her,  I  tried  to  laugh,  for 


844  A   STOET    OF   THE    GREAT   REBELLION. 

she  was  at  once  called  '  strong-minded '  after  the  fashion  of  all 
intelligent  American  ladles,  and  I  was  sure  that  I  should  hate 
her.  But  though  she  was  self-willed  and  unbending,  she  was 
too  purely  womanly  to  answer  my  idea  of  a  'masculine  woman,' 
which  I  thought  '  strong-mindedness '  meant.  She  had  dared 
to  step  into  a  self-chosen  path,  and  walked  it  with  a  courage 
that  was  grand.  I  was  amazed  the  more  I  studied  her,  for  she 
had  the  face  of  a  child,  and  a  manner  as  simple  and  natural, 
except  when  some  perverse  spirit  crossed  her  own  and  her  ma- 
turer  strength  was  forced  out.  I  saw,  too,  In  my  closer  scru- 
tiny, that  she  suffered,  and  would  fain  have  offered  her  my 
sympathy,  but  she  made  me  see  that  she  would  walk  alone 
with  her  grief,  putting  it  from  her  own  sight  whenever  it  was 
possible,  and  I  did  not  dare  to  intrude  my  sincere  compassion. 
This  little  woman — strange,  beautiful  thing  that  she  was! — 
never  showed  herself  arrogant  or  over-eager  to  thrust  her  own 
ideas  prominently  before  others.  On  the  contrary,  she  was 
rather  retiring,  inclined  to  keep  her  own  counsel  and  never 
meddle  with  other  people's  pet  foibles.  But  when  pressed  for 
opinions,  and  closely  driven  within  her  lines  of  defence,  she 
would  rally  and  fight  for  the  victory  with  a  warm,  earnest, 
dehberate  air  that  was  enchanting. 

"Day  after  day,  though  they  were  not  many,  I  watched 
her  with  increasing  interest,  until  an  accident  happened  to  me 
which  nearly  cost  me  my  life,  and  when  I  woke  to  conscious- 
ness, the  first  thing  I  saw,  was  her  slender  figure  a  Httle  dis- 
tance from  me,  trembling  with  emotion.  The  keen,  wild  sense 
of  delight  that  ran  through  all  my  being  at  that  moment, 
when  I  thought  she  cared  enough  for  me  to  shed  a  tear  over 
my  misfortune,  taught  me  what  I  would  not  have  been  willing 
to  acknoAvledge  to  myself  before.  I  knew  then  that  I  loved 
her,  and  that  love  grew  mightUy  every  subsequent  hour  passed 
in  her  society.  But  she  kept  me  afar  off,  and  I  did  not  dare 
to  utter  a  word — not  even  when  we  parted,  and  I  knew  she 
was  going  from  me  with  the  intent  to  see  me  no  more.  She 
did  not  care  to  be  troubled  with  me,  and  would  never  know 


•WOOING  WITHOUT   WINNING.  345 

that  I  would  willingly  serve  for  her  with  the  fliithfulncss  of  a 
Jacob  for  his  Eachcl,  if  she  had  only  given  me  one  smile  upon 
which  to  build  a  hope  for  the  future.     Ah,  well,  she  went  her 
way  and  I  went  mine,  but  I  could  never  forget  her.     She 
haunted  me  like  a  sweet,  wild  dream,  and  turned  all  other 
pleasures  to  nothingness.     The  world  had  become  blank.     I 
wearied  of  everything,  and  like  lliomme  blase,  could  nowhere 
find  a  '  sensation.'    At  length  I  resolved  to  give  up  my  roving, 
useless  life,  and  be  a  soldier.     I  could  not  make  up  my  mind 
to  leave  the  country  she  loved,  so  I  determined  to  win  her 
respect,  at  least,  by  fighting  for  it,  and  good  luck  threw  me 
in  contact  with  one  of  her  best  friends,  who  got  a  commission 
for  me,  and  often  pleased  me  with  the  high,  earnest,  manly 
praise  he  uttered  of  her  whom  I  loved.     I  did  not  tell  him 
the  name  of  her  who  claimed  all  my  thoughts,  but  I  told  him 
tliat  I  loved,  and  for  the  sake  of  that  love,  took  up  arms  hop- 
ing to  win  her  favor,  and  he  told  me  to  go  to  her  with  my  tale 
of  devotion,  and  she  could  not  fail  to  smile  upon  me.     Do  i/ou 
think  so  too,  Mrs.  Passiver?     Do  you  think  I  dare  to  tell  her  ' 
of  my  love  and  beg  her  to  give  me  one  hope  for  the  future? 
I  woidd  not  be  impatient,  but  await  her  pleasure  in  all  things. 
All  I  would  ask  would  be  the  sweet  privilege  of  coming  to 
her  in  the  end,  with  permission  to  strive  to  win  her  affection." 
She  sat  pale  and  embarrassed,  painfully  at  a  loss  how  to 
answer  this  man  without  deeply  wounding  his  feelings.     His 
wistful  glance  never  left  her  face  now  for  a  moment,  and  forced 
her  to  hasten. 

"The  lady  gave  you  no  encouragement  in  the  beginning,  you 
say;  and  if  she  had  reasons  then  for  repelling  your  advances, 
what  reason  have  you  for  supposing  they  do  not  still  exist?" 
"  Ah,  she  was  not  then  free !  I  know  all  that  now !  But 
she  is  no  longer  bound  to  repel  me  except  from  choice.  Oh, 
Mrs.  Passiver,  this  is  mockery !  You  know  whom  I  mean, 
and  I  cannot  rest  until  I  have  had  your  frank  reply.  Tell  me 
if  there  is  any  hope  that  I  may  one  day  win  you.  Without 
your  love,  Hfe  will  seem  very  dreary  and  desolate." 


346  A   STORY   OF   THE    GREAT   REBELLIOX. 

"  Captain  Meridan,  this  is  unexpected  and  out  of  place," 
she  answered  with  difficulty.  "These  weeds  I  wear  might 
have  won  me  your  forbearance  in  such  a  declaration ;  but  time 
could  make  no  difference.  I  cannot  now,  or  ever,  give  you 
reason  to  hope  for  more  than  a  friendly  regard,  which  you 
have  deserved  richly  in  your  frank  and  manly  course  of  action." 

He  rose  to  his  feet,  mortified  and  deeply  distressed. 

"Forgive  me  for  my  unseemly  haste.  I  had  not  intended 
to  thrust  such  a  declaration  upon  you  now,  had  not  the 
thought  of  coming  danger  forced  me  into  a  forsretfulness 
which  I  cannot  myself  pardon.  I  deeply  regret  the  pain  I 
have  caused  you." 

All  the  sweet  womanliness  of  her  nature  was  touched  by 
his  tone  and  manner. 

"  Captain  Meridan,  no  true  woman  can  be  indifferent  to  the 
sincere  love  of  an  earnest  man,  and  I  thank  you  for  the  honor 
you  have  bestowed  upon  me  in  such  an  affection.  I  even  may 
go  so  far  as  to  say  that  I  regret  my  unworthiness,  and  utter 
inability  to  give  you  the  hope  you  desire.  In  remembering 
you  it  will  always  be  with  the  kindest  sentiments  of  honor 
and  esteem." 

"  Thank  you  for  this  much.  It  is  Hke  you  to  speak  frankly, 
and  I  am  comforted  in  knowing  that  I  have  not  wholly  for- 
feited your  respect.  If  we  never  meet  again,  believe  that  I 
will  most  sincerely  hope  that  your  future  life  may  be  happier 
than  the  past  has  been." 

He  took  her  hand,  bent  over  it  for  a  moment  and  was  gone, 
leavincf  her  bewildered  and  hea-rt-sick  with  the  suddenness  and 
singularity  of  the  painful  interview.  "When  Helen  returned 
a  short  time  after  he  had  gone,  she  was  once  more  busy  with 
her  pen,  and  said  nothing  about  his  visit  until  the  non-appear- 
ance of  the  expected  officer  as  the  evening  advanced,  caused 
Helen  to  exclaim  against  his  want  of  punctuality.  Then  she 
told  her  aU  that  had  passed,  and  was  rewarded  by  a  burst 
of  uncontrollable  merriment  over  the  Captain's  manner  of 
wooing.     A  touch  of  the  old  playfulness  had  come  back  to 


A   SHADOWED   PATHWAY.  347 

Helen  during  Astrea's  ingenuous  recital,  and  now  she  began 
to  tease  her  most  unmercifully,  until  Astrea's  gravity  and 
o-athering  tears,  warned  her  that  she  was  pressing  upon  sore 
■\^'Ounds. 

"  Oh,  but  you  must  learn  to  be  less  sensitive,"  she  cried  re- 
gretfully, i)uttlng  her  arms  around  her  shoulders  with  a  ten- 
der, caressing  touch.  "I  know  that  life  has  few  sunny  spots 
for  us,  but  we  must  try  to  rise  above  the  darkness,  and  take 
more  reasonably  whatever  may  come.  We  have  each  courted 
the  shadows  too  long,  and  I  know  it  is  not  right.  I  try  very 
hard  to  break  through  them,  every  day,  and  I  have  not  your 
promise  of  hope  and  joy  to  make  my  future  bright." 

"  I  try  also,  dear,  but  it  is  not  easy  to  control  our  feelings 
where  we  have  suifered  so  much  of  pain.  I  feel  very  sorry 
for  Mr.  Meridan,  for  I  think  him  sincere,  and  it  is  not  in  my 
nature  to  feel  no  regret  over  wounds  I  am  forced  to  inflict." 

"  O,  I'll  tell  you  how  to  manage  it,  then !  You  may  reward 
the  gallant  Captain's  devotion  with  this  little  hand  and  turn 
Colonel  Wilfer  over  to  me.  A  man — especially  an  English- 
man, who  can  voluntarily  set  himself  up  as  a  target  for  rebels 
to  shoot  at  deserves  some  reward — "  But  here  Helen  broke 
down  under  the  pain  self-inflicted  by  her  light  speech,  and 
wept  with  womanly  shame  and  regret. 

"  One  would  think  me  heartless,"  she  said  at  length,  wiping 
away  her  tears.  "But  I  never  forget  my  husband  and  how 
faithfully  he  loved  me.  I  cannot  imagine  what  can  be  the 
matter  with  me  to-night — so  nervous,  restless  and  foolish,  like 
a  hysterical  school-girl !  I  must  learn  to  control  myself  bet- 
ter. Oh,  dear!  I  wonder  what  we  are  all  made  for,  and 
whither  we  are  tending!  Whatever  we  may  think  and  re- 
solve, it  all  comes  down  to  this  perplexing  question  at  last.  I 
wish  I  could  see  my  way,  or  hope  that  the  peace  I  crave  may 
ever  reach  me." 

Astrea  took  her  well-worn  bible  from  the  desk,  and  read  in 
a  sweet,  clear  voice  from  the  fourteenth  chapter  of  St.  John : 

"  Let  not  your  hearts  be  troubled.     Ye  believe  in  God,  be- 


348  A  STORY  or  the  great  rebellion. 

lieve  also  in  me. "  Helen  listened  to  the  close,  and  sighed 
wearily ; 

"  That  is  not  for  me ;  that  was  to  comfort  His  disciples  un- 
der a  coming  bereavement.  At  times  we  can  apply  such  terms 
of  consolation  to  ourselves,  but  oftener,  they  seem  afar  off  and 
unreal.  We  cannot  grasp  them  as  meant  for  us — because, 
perhaps,  we  know  ourselves  unworthy — and  must  go  on  our 
weary  way  mourning  hopelessly.  Human  nature  is  weak  and 
very  inconsistent." 

Astrea  was  silent.  Helen  had  but  too  well  expressed  her 
own  feelings.  Yet  they  knelt  together  and  earnestly  prayed 
for  the  faith  which  alone  gives  hope  for  earth  or  eternity. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

A   DAWNING   AS   OF    BRIGHTER    DATS. 

The  last  lingering  tints  of  autumn  had  faded  away  into  the 
dull,  leaden  dreariness  of  winter,  ere  Astrea  yielded  to  Helen's 
entreaties  and  Harry  "VVilfer's  prayers  that  he  might  be  per- 
mitted to  visit  her.  Even  then  he  was  delayed  in  his  arrange- 
ments, and  it  was  Christmas  eve  before  he  found  himself  in 
the  city,  eagerly  hastening  to  the  abode  of  his  friends. 

A  private  letter  to  Helen  informed  her  what  hour  he  might 
be  expected,  and  she,  guessing  his  wishes,  had  made  an  excuse 
to  go  out  for  some  forgotten  purchases,  in  order  that  their 
meeting  might  be  freed  fi-om  the  restraint  of  her  presence. 
The  good  little  creature  hastily  threw  on  her  cloak  and  hat  as 
the  hour  drew  near,  and  had  just  time  to  reach  the  corner 
when  she  saw  a  carriage  whirl  past  and  stop  before  her  door. 
Then  she  went  down  the  street  slowly,  with  a  smile  upon  her 
lips  and  her  hand  pressed  over  her  heart  to  still  its  excited 
throbbings. 

The  streets  of  the  metropolis  were  thronged,  and  ablaze 
with  light.  Continuous  streams  of  human  life  poured  from 
all  directions,  while  the  rear  of  Babel-like  Broadway  seemed 
each  moment  to  grow  deeper  and  deeper,  until  the  "holiday 
noise"  became  stunning.  Bright  and  happy  faces  passed  her, 
heedless  of  the  leaden  sky  above  and  the  sloppy  pavement 
beneath.  They  had  homes  and  friends  to  be  made  happy  by 
what  they  carried  to  them,  but  in  the  midst  of  all  this,  she 
felt  her  desolation  as  never  before.     No  husband — no  children 


350  A    STORY   OF   THE   GREAT   REBELLIOX. 

waited  lier  return !  The  one  friend  left  her,  was  forjretful  now 
that  she  existed,  probably,  in  the  deeper  joy  of  another  pres- 
ence; and  while  her  faithful  heart  rejoiced  in  her  joy,  there 
was  a  heavier  sense  of  desolation  and  loneliness  that  made  her 
wander  aimlessly  up  and  down,  with  humid  eyes  and  a  swell- 
ing in  her  throat  that  must  have  terminated  in  sobs,  had  she 
been  anywhere  else  than  in  the  open  street.  The  air  was 
chill,  sometimes  sweeping  up  against  her  rudely  with  wintry 
violence,  and  scattering  the  clouds  above,  until  a  few  pale 
stars  blinked  faintly  from  momentary  glimpses  of  blue  sky. 
She  did  not  want  anything,  and  so  wandered  away,  looking 
at  everything — caring  for  nothing — often  jostled,  and  many 
times  hailed  by  ragged  children  who  shivered  and  held  forth 
their  little  cold  hands  for  pennies  "  to  buy  bread."  She  gave 
mechanically  until  all  the  loose  change  in  her  pocket  wa*?  gone, 
then  vaguely  wished  herself  away  where  she  could  no  longer 
hear  the  pitiful  sound  of  their  voices.  Occasionally  the  notes 
of  a  street  organ  penetrated  through  the  harsh  confusion  of 
sounds;  and  once  a  child's  clear,  sweet  soprano  in  accompa- 
niment, smote  her  with  a  keen  anguish  which  brought  an 
involuntary  sigh  from  her  lips  as  she  turned  to  look  at  the 
poor  little  wanderer,  standing  at  the  side  of  a  blind  father 
shivering  in  the  blast.  "When  the  song  was  ended,  she  timidly 
strove  to  gather  a  few  pennies  from  the  passers-by,  but  no  one 
seemed  to  notice  the  little  outstretched  hand,  and  she  finally 
took  the  organist's  arm  to  lead  him  away.  In  a  moment  both 
were  lost  to  sight  In  the  human  stream,  and  Helen  turned  to 
other  scenes,  repeating  the  sad  sigh  : 

"HoAv  prone  we  are  to  think  ourselves  alone  in  wretched- 
ness !  I  was  thinking  that  in  all  this  great  city  there  could 
surely  be  none  other  so  desolate  and  wretched !  Oh,  blind  ! 
oh,  selfish!  when  there  are  thousands  who  may  not  even 
have  food  to  satisfy  hunger,  or  a  shelter  to  cover  them  from 
the  cold  of  a  winter  night!  Shall  I  ever  learn  to  be  less  care- 
fid  for  myself,  more  thoughtful  of  others?" 

In  the  meantime,  Astrea,  left  alone,  had  stirred  the  coals  in 


A   SURPRISE   VISIT.  351 

the  grate  to  a  vivid  glow,  and  ordered  tea  to  be  served  im- 
mediately upon  Helen's  return.  This  done,  she  sat  down  to 
indulge  in  the  luxury  of  a  quiet  revery,  though  that  revery 
could  not  be  otherwise  than  sad  at  such  a  season,  contrasting 
the  mirth  and  joy  around  her  with  her  own  loneliness.  Once 
she  had  been  merry  and  gay  in  the  Christmas  time,  but  that 
was  past  now.  Wrapped  in  the  thoughts  which  thronged 
upon  her,  she  did  not  hear  the  bell,  or  the  quiet  step  in  the 
hall,  until  some  one  advanced  into  the  room.  Then  she 
looked  up  to  see  Harry  Wilfer  with  both  hands  outstretched, 
and  looking  down  at  her  with  loving  eyes.  A  quick,  keen 
throb  of  pain  ran  through  her  sudden  joy,  but  she  rose  and 
put  her  little  hands  into  his  broad,  soft  palms,  saying  no  word, 
but  suffering  him  to  draw  her  to  his  bosom,  while  he  bent  his 
head  with  proud  and  eager  gladness  to  kiss  the  pale  lips  of 
his  love. 

"  Can  it  be  that  I  have  you  at  last !  The  future  gave  so 
little  promise  of  a  joy  like  this  when  I  said  good-bye  at  Cor- 
inth! But  now! — oh,  God  is  very  good  to  me,  and  I  think 
no  man  was  ever  so  supremely  happy! " 

She  felt  it  in  the  quick  beating  of  his  heart,  and  saw  it  in 
the  warm  tears  which  dropped  glitteringly  upon  the  sable 
folds  of  her  dress  while  he  held  her  tightlv,  as  if  he  would 
never  again  let  her  go  from  his  arms.  If  she  was  silent,  he 
did  not  chide  her,  for  he  knew  all  that  she  must  feel  in  an  hour 
like  this.  Yet  he  longed  to  have  her  express  something  of 
the  delight  he  experienced,  and  could  not  forbear  the  question 
as  she  drew  herself  gently  from  his  grasp.  i 

"Are  you  happy,  ray  Astrea?" 

"Happy?  Yes,  Harry,  in  the  midst  of  sadness.  How 
happy,  I  cannot  tell  you.  This  hour  brings  me  an  untold 
joy.  It  is  the  glory  of  a  spring-time  season  bursting  suddenly 
out  of  the  stormy  depths  of  winter.  Imagine  a  scene! 
Where  stretched  long  reaches  of  trackless  snow  magically 
appear  bright  fields  of  living  green.  Frozen  streams  that 
struggled  beneath  their  fetters  with  a  sullen  murmur,  have 


352  A   STORY    OF   THE   GREAT   REBELLION. 

suddenly  burst  tlieir  bonds  and  laugh  in  the  sunlight,  happy 
and  free !  Green  buds  and  bursting  blossoms  grow  from  the 
forest  boughs,  while  through  them  run  the  glad  wild  notes  of 
singing  birds,  making  blissful  melody.  Clear  and  blue  and 
cloudless,  stretches  overhead  the  lately  leaden  sky.  From  her 
white  winding  sheet  the  earth  has  risen  radiant  with  living 
beauty.  Do  you  like  the  picture,  Harry  ?  Oh,  love  and  hope, 
what  marvelous  works  do  ye  create  in  human  hearts ! " 

"  And  do  you  love  me  like  this?  I  have  not  deserved  such 
happiness !  You  make  me  afraid  that  it  is  but  a  wild,  sweet 
dream  that  will  fade  with  the  sound  of  your  voice." 

They  sat  down  before  the  grate  and  talked  quietly,  wrapped 
in  a  more  serene  and  confident  joy.  They  had  much  to  say, 
and  forgot  the  passage  of  time  in  relating  and  listening  to  each 
other,  until  a  sudden  remembrance  made  him  ask  for  Helen. 

"I  am  looking  for  her  every  moment,"  Astrea  answered 
uneasily.     "  She  ought  to  have  been  home  half  an  hour  ago." 

"  I  might  have  been  here  a  week  without  your  knowing  it," 
came  cheerily  from  the  adjoining  room  where  Mrs.  Xoble  was 
removing  her  wrappings.  Then  she  came  forward  with  a  soft, 
warm  glow  upon  her  face,  and  gave  both  hands  to  Colonel 
Wilfer  in  cordial  greetino;. 

"How  long  have  you  been  in  there?"  he  asked. 

"Xot  long,"  she  returned  archly.  "I  found  so  much  upon 
the  streets  to  be  seen,  it  kept  me  longer  than  usual,  and  I  have 
brought  a  present  for  each  of  you.     See ! " 

She  took  a  little  package  from  her  pocket  and  opened  it, 
while  Astrea  asked  if  she  was  not  rather  too  fast  in  assuming 
to  have  bought  a  present  for  Colonel  Wilfer.  The  two  ex- 
changed glances,  then  both  laughed. 

"Xo,  I  am  not  too  fast!  You  see,  /expected  him,  if  you 
did  not.  He  and  I  each  have  o.  penchant  for  surprises,  and  we 
thought  we  would  initiate  you  into  the  pleasures  of  the  same, 
so  you  were  left  to  receive  the  visitor  which  you  did  not  ex- 
pect, while  I  went  off  to  hunt  something  to  give  you  on  Christ- 
mas morning." 


LOVE-GIFTS   AND   GIFTS   OF   LOVE.  353 

To  the  trio,  that  Christmas  eve  was  passed  with  a  sober, 
quiet  joy  that  few  could  understand,  for  the  same  experiences 
never  tend  to  like  results  in  the  lives  of  different  people. 
Perliaps,  in  all  the  city  of  New  York,  such  a  scene  as  that 
which  was  passing  in  the  little  parlor,  could  not  have  been 
found.  After  a  dish  of  tea,  and  a  long  chat  in  which  all  took 
a  part,  Astrea  handed  her  little  bible  to  Colonel  Wilfer,  who 
unhesitatingly  took  it,  found  a  chapter  suited  to  the  season, 
and  read  aloud  while  they  sat  listening  upon  either  side.  No 
false  modesty  kindled  his  cheek  or  caused  his  voice  to  falter. 
He  closed  the  book  with  simple  reverence,  and  knelt  with 
them  in  earnest,  fervent,  grateful  prayer. 

"I  never  knew  before  how  good  he  is,"  said  Helen  when 
he  had  bidden  them  good-night  and  gone  back  to  his  hotel. 
"  There  are  few  young  men  who  are  so  earnest,  yet  so  bright 
and  cheerful.  His  mood  is  never  trifling,  yet  seldom  gloomy. 
I  like  him  better  than  ever  for  what  I  have  seen  and  heard 
to-night." 

Astrea's  face  was  radiant  with  a  proud  happiness,  and  she 
stooped  quickly  to  kiss  Helen's  cheek  in  acknowledgment  of 
her  praise.  Neither  had  known  such  a  sweet  sense  of  joy  as 
that  which  dwelt  with  them  when  their  heads  lay  side  by  side 
upon  the  same  pillow,  with  cheek  pressed  to  cheek  in  loving 
confidence,  as  they  sank  to  rest.  They  had  only  time  to 
breakfast  and  prepare  for  church  on  the  following  morning, 
before  Colonel  Wilfer  made  his  appearance  with  Christmas 
greetings  and  a  small  present  for  each.  Helen's  gift  in  return, 
was  a  miniature  of  Astrea  painted  by  herself,  and  handsomely 
set  in  a  little  golden  case.  Astrea  put  a  pocket  Testament 
into  his  hand,  beautifully  bound,  with  his  name  written  in 
clear,  free  characters  upon  the  fly-leaf;  but  while  he  thanked 
them  for  the  remembrances,  holding  the  miniature  with  hearty 
pleasure,  he  stooped  and  whispered  to  his  betrothed  secret 
thanks  for  the  more  priceless  gift. of  Her  love. 

The  walk  to  church  was  very  pleasant,  though  the  day  was 
eold  and  stormy.  Seated  far  back  in  the  church,  where  the 
23 


354  A    STORY   OF   THE   GREAT   REBELLION. 

mellow  light  from  the  stained  glass  windows  fell  upon  each 
subdued  face,  they  were  still  serenely  happy,  and  enjoyed  the 
solemn,  impressive  sermon  with  the  sweet  and  cheering  sense 
of  right  to  possession  in  the  promises  made  through  the  lips 
of  the  old  white-haired  pastor.  Never  had  words  seemed  so 
nearly  intended  for  individual  comfort  and  acceptance.  Each 
felt  as  if  the  kind  voice  was  directed  to  them,  with  words  of 
cheer  fitting  the  peculiar  need  of  their  natures ;  and  they  rose 
with  a  feeling  of  regret  when  he  spread  his  hands  above  the 
cono-resation  in  benediction. 

Then  there  was  the  walk  back,  pleasant  but  quiet.  Once 
In  their  own  room,  however,  they  seemed  to  have  brought  with 
them  the  spirit  of  the  season,  and  vied  with  each  other  in 
striving  to  make  each  other  happy.  Colonel  Wllfer  remained 
to  dine  with  them,  after  which  he  opened  his  budget  of  amus- 
ing reminiscences  for  their  amusement,  until  It  grew  quite  late ; 
so  it  happened  that  he  did  not  mention  the  subject  nearest  his 
heart  till  just  before  he  took  his  leave.  He  dreaded  to  cast 
a  shadow  upon  the  bright  face  by  pleading  for  an  early  day 
to  call  Astrea  his  own,  and  feel  that  he  had  the  right  to  shield 
her  from  all  future  ill.  And  he  had  not  mistaken  the  effect 
it  would  have  upon  her  to  mention  the  subject  of  marriage. 
She  turned  pale  and  shrank  tremblingly  from  his  touch,  speak- 
ing in  a  quick,  sharp  tone : 

"  Wait,  Harry,  wait !  I  cannot  quite  bring  myself  to  that 
yet.  Be  content  with  knowing  that  I  love  you,  and  let  me 
have  time  to  forget  the  past." 

He  looked  troubled. 

"But  I  want  to  be  able  to  care  for  you.  It  troubles  me 
sorely  to  see  you  In  these  small  rooms,  and  to  know  that  you 
must  toil  from  day  to  day  for  your  bread." 

"  That  Is  foohsh,  for  we  have  more  than  we  want.  Helen 
has  some  property  and  her  pension,  while  I  can  make  what  1 
need  easily  enough,  with  my  pen.  It  is  necessary  for  us  to  be 
employed  with  something,  therefore  we  work ;  but  we  do  not 
labor  more  than  is  good  for  our  mental  health.     No,  Harry ; 


FUTURE   HOPES   AND   PROMISES.  355 

there  is  no  need  to  worry  about  us.  "Wait  until  you  are  out 
of  tlie  service,  then  I  will  make  no  further  objections  to  your 
wishes." 

"  It  is  hard  to  wait  for  so  lonj^  a  time !  It  may  be  many 
months  yet  ere  this  strife  can  cease,  and  I  must  in  the  mean- 
time endure  the  eternal  fear  of  losing  you." 

"Why  should  you  fear?  Can  you  not  trust  to  my  affec- 
tion?" 

"  It  is  no  doubt  of  that  which  makes  me  impatient,  but  the 
uncertainty  of  things.  I  must  go  back  to  duty,  always  under 
the  probability  of  danger ;  and  if  it  is  His  will  tliat  I  should 
fall,  I  could  die  easier  to  know  that  you  had  a  legal  right  to 
what  I  possess,  and  that  a  wife's  tears  might  sometimes  fall 
upon  my  grave." 

"  Don't  talk  of  death,  Harry !  That  is  a  subject  too  fear- 
full  v  familiar  to  me,  and  horrible  in  connection  with  yourself." 

"You  value  my  happiness,  Astrea?" 

"God  alone  knows  how  much." 

"  Then  hear  me.  I  shall  know  neither  peace  nor  rest  until 
you  are  my  wife  beyond  possibility  of  loss." 

"Come  for  me  in  the  spring,  then,"  she  answered  quietly, 
and  he  Avas  obliged  to  be  content. 

When  he  had  returned  to  the  army,  life  flowed  on  for  the 
two  women  in  the  same  quiet,  monotonous  way  as  before. 
Amidst  thousands  they  were  alone,  seeking  no  society  what- 
ever, but  they  had  ceased  to  be  unhappy,  though  it  was  im- 
possible that  they  should  yet  cease  to  be  sad  at  times.  Colonel 
Wilfer's  letters,  which  came  regulai'ly  twice  a  week,  were 
always  like  visitors,  and  filled  with  a  variety  of  news  which 
served  them  in  the  stead  of  gossip.  They  talked  over  them 
with  the  freedom  of  sisters,  and  planned  for  the  future  with 
undivided  interest. 

Thus  the  winter  passed,  and  the  spring  came  with  bursting 
buds  and  bloom.  Colonel  Wilfcr  had  begged  the  middle  of 
May  for  the  promised  visit,  and  received  Astrea's  permission ; 
but  the  early  month  saw  the  campaign  upon  the  Wilderness 


356  A   STORY   OF   THE    GREAT   REBELLION. 

opened — ^beginning  on  the  3d — and  all  his  plans  were  shat- 
tered. This  campaign  lasted  until  late  in  June,  and  at  its 
close,  our  hero  was  detailed  for  special  duty,  which  threatened 
to  keep  him  engaged  for  an  indefinite  period. 

During  this  time  Astrea  suffered  greatly  with  anxiety, 
knowing  but  too  well  the  dangers  to  which  he  was  exposed. 
And  there  were  long  weeks  of  silence  unbroken  by  a  line  of 
intelligence,  which  were  followed  by  a  number  of  letters  all 
together  and  of  dates  far  back,  calculated  to  tantalize  her 
sorely  when  she  saw  how  faithfully  he  had  striven  to  keep  her 
advised  of  his  welfare.  His  missives  were  often  penciled 
upon  the  pommel  of  his  saddle,  or  a  drum-head — wherever  he 
chanced  to  be — and  breathed  an  all-absorbing  devotion  very 
grateful  to  her  longing  heart.  And  yet,  though  they  made 
her  desire  his  coming  with  an  intensity  that  was  almost  irre- 
sistible, she  was  still  glad  that  circumstances  conspired  to  de- 
tain him — so  strange  and  unaccountable  was  the  dread  of  his 
coming !  It  was  in  vain  that  she  chided  herself  for  her  foolish 
and  unfounded  fears.  The  thought  would  haunt  her  that 
some  great  sorrow  would  follow  his  advent,  and  she  had  suf- 
fered too  much  not  to  shrink  from  any  new  phase  of  woe. 

To  Helen  the  reason  for  this  dread  seemed  plain  enough,  re- 
membering the  past  life  of  her  friend ;  and  she  chided  her  ee- 
riously  for  allowing  it  to  rise  up  between  her  and  the  happi- 
ness that  a  wiser  Providence  had  ordained.  But  she  told 
Harry  nothing  of  Astrea's  fears,  in  the  little  spicy  letters 
which  he  had  loved  to  read  by  the  flickering  light  of  his  tent 
lamp;  and  thus  he  knew  nothing  of  her  uneasiness  until 
months  had  passed,  and  the  second  expedition  against  Fort 
Fisher  was  forming,  in  which  he  was  to  take  a  part.  Then 
he  had  resolved  to  get  a  leave  and  go  to  New  York,  if  but 
for  one  day,  that  he  might  claim  his  bride  before  rushing  into 
this  new  danger. 

"I  am  to  have  a  command  under  General  Terry,"  he  said 
as  he  sat  in  their  little  parlor  after  the  flutter  of  his  unex- 
pected arrival  had  subsid'^.      "And  I  could  not  go  on  so 


A   QUIET   WEDDING.  357 

dangerous  tin  expedition  without  having  seen  you  first.  I 
have  suffered  much  of  uneasiness  and  suspense,  and  now  want 
the  comfort  of  knowing  if  I  fall,  that  I  shall  not  leave  you 
destitute.     I  have  come  to  claim  your  promise,  Astrea." 

She  placed  her  hand  in  his. 

"  I  am  prepared  to  fulfill  it,  but  fear  it  will  bring  you  little 
of  joy  or  peace.  I  wish  the  fulfillment  might  ensure  to  you 
all  you  deserve." 

"I  ask  no  more  than  this,  and  am  willing  to  trust  a  kind 
Providence  for  the  future.  Do  you  know  I  have  been  haunted 
most  cruelly  with  the  fear  that  you  would  find  some  excuse 
for  again  makinfj  me  wait?" 

It  was  well  that  Helen  had  left  the  room,  or  this  speech 
might  have  made  her  forget  her  prudence  and  expose  Astrea's 
unreasonable  forebodings.  As  it  was,  the  latter  only  hid  her 
face  against  his  shoulder  and  allowed  him  to  have  his  own  way 
in  the  settlement  of  affairs. 

"I  must  go  back  this  very  evening,"  he  said,  "for  I  could 
only  get  away  with  the  greatest  difficulty,  as  every  man  is 
needed  to  hasten  the  completion  of  arrangements  for  the  en- 
terprise. The  annoying  delay  of  the  Baltimore  train  for  some 
hours,  has  cut  me  off"  for  a  whole  day  which  I  hoped  to  spend 
with  you.  Therefore  I  shall  go  now  and  find  a  clergyman, 
and  immediately  afterwards,  we  will  drive  either  to  his  house 
or  a  church  and  be  quietly  married.  Our  parting  will  not  be 
so  hard  for  me,  if  in  leaving  you,  I  know  that  I  may  come 
back  to  my  wife — should  God  spare  me  for  that  great  happi- 
ness." 

No  objections  being  made,  he  carried  out  his  plans,  and  at 
mid-day  they  drove  to  a  quiet  little  church  in  the  upper  part 
of  the  city,  where  the  minister  and  three  or  four  persons 
awaited  them.  It  seemed  like  a  dream  to  her  as  she  listened 
to  the  solemn,  beautifiil  words  of  the  service,  and  heard  Harry 
TVilfer's  earnest,  manly  response.  Then,  when  all  was  over, 
when  Helen's  impulsive  kiss  and  her  husband's  close  warm 
pressure  of  the  hand,  to  which  were  added  the  congratula- 


358  A   STORY   OF   THE   GREAT   REBELLION. 

tions  of  the  few  witnesses,  assured  her  that  she  was  once  more 
a  bride,  a  mist  gathered  over  her  eyes,  and  she  leaned,  heavily 
for  a  moment  upon  her  husband's  arm.  But  the  cloud  soon 
lifted,  and  it  seemed  as  if  a  rich,  warm  flood  of  light  had 
fallen  around  her.  For  one  brief,  bright  hour,  our  heroine  was 
hapj)y.  She  did  not  know  how  very  soon  it  must  end,  as  she 
sat  with  him  for  a  few  moments  alone,  after  they  had  partaken 
of  a  hasty  dinner.  He  was  to  leave  on  the  two  o'clock  train 
for  Baltimore,  whence  he  would  go  to  Fortress  Monroe,  and 
when  he  had  urged  her  earnestly  to  lay  aside  her  pen,  and 
try  to  find  a  more  agreeable  home  in  a  more  cheerful  part  of 
the  city,  they  entered  the  carriage  with  him  and  drove  to  the 
depot  to  see  him  off. 

Until  the  last  moment,  they  maintained  a  degree  of  cheer- 
fulness which  none  felt ;  but  when  they  stood  upon  the  wharf 
and  bade  him  good-bye,  not  knowing  if  he  should  ever  come 
again,  the  bitterness  of  a  coming  woe  seemed  to  have  fallen 
upon  all.  Harry  Wilfer  thought  it  no  shame  to  his  manhood 
that  others  saw  the  tears  that  ran  swiftly  down  his  cheeks  as 
the  boat  left  the  wharf  with  him,  looking  at  his  wife,  who, 
bathed  in  tears  more  copious  than  his  own,  was  supported  by 
Helen  until  he  could  no  longer  see  the  two  figures.  And  we 
know  that  it  is  well  we  are  not  permitted  to  look  into  the  fti- 
ture.  A  wiser  power  than  we  comprehend  has  ordained  that 
we  shall  see  each  purpose  of  His  own  as  He  wills  to  unfold  it 
to  our  sight.  We  cannot  more  than  conjecture  what  the  fu- 
ture may  bring,  though  it  is  in  human  nature  to  look  forward 
rather  than  back,  forever  upreaching  for  that  which  is  beyond 
our  grasp.  Often  the  appreciation  of  the  present  is  lost  in 
the  eagerness  with  which  we  look  past  our  actual  possessions 
to  that  Avhich  we  hope  to  possess  in  the  future;  so,  we  drift 
onward,  rarely  if  ever  content. 

When  the  boat  was  out  of  sight,  Helen  gently  urged  As- 
trea  to  return  to  the  carriage  which  awaited  them,  and  the 
latter  was  about  to  enter,  when  the  uneasiness  which  is  often 
felt  when  closely  regarded  by  unseen  eyes,  caused  her  to  look 


AN   EVIL   GENIUS   AGAIN   AT   WORK.  359 

up  questioningly.  Standing  a  little  apart  from  the  crowd, 
was  a  man  who  came  forward  the  moment  he  met  her  o;lance. 

"You  will  not  deny  me  the  pleasure  of  offering  you  my 
congratulations,  Mrs.  Wilfer?  Judging  by  the  scene  I  have 
just  witnessed,  I  may  be  excused  for  presuming  that  you  must 
be  his  wife." 

"  Yes,  sir,  she  is  his  wife,"  said  Helen  sharply ;  "  but  I  think 
she  can  dispense  with  your  congratulations.  Please  to  stand 
aside,  sir." 

"  Not  so  fast — begging  your  pardon,  madam.  I  am  a  little 
curious  to  know  how  a  lady  of  Mrs.  Wilfer's  high  principles 
can  reconcile  it  with  her  sense  of  right  to  marry  one  husband 
while  the  other  is  still  livino;." 

"  Doctor  Grey  is  not  well  informed,"  Astrea  answered  with 
quiet  dignity.  "  If  he  had  found  it  convenient  to  wait  a  short 
time  lonofer  on  the  niorht  of  our  last  meeting;,  he  would  not 
now  have  found  it  necessary  to  intrude  such  a  question  upon 
me.     Have  the  kindness  to  let  us  pass,  sir?" 

He  stood  out  of  the  way  while  they  drove  rapidly  from  the 
wharf,  but  almost  immediately  after  they  had  gone,  he  entered 
a  hack  and  instructed  the  driver  to  follow.  When  they 
reached  their  home,  he  took  down  the  street  and  number,  mut- 
tering to  himself  as  he  put  the  address  into  his  pocket : 

"  A  lucky  day  for  me,  and  one  which  will  fiimish  me  with 
both  money  and  power — power  to  pay  her  back  for  all  the 
darins:  things  she  has  said  to  me ! " 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

THE    CAPTURE    OF    FORT    FISHER. 

Notwithstanding  the  dispatch  made  in  the  preparations 
for  moving  a  second  time  upon  Fort  Fisher,  it  was  as  late  as 
the  fifth  of  January  ere  the  fleet  left  Old  Point  Comfort  and 
steamed  out  of  the  lovely  harbor  into  the  broad,  blue  expanse 
of  the  Atlantic.  Colonel  Wilfer's  letters  up  to  the  day  of 
starting  were  long,  frequent  and  cheerful.  But  after  that 
there  were  long  days  and  nights  of  silent  and  anxious  watch- 
ing, until  the  glad  news  swept  over  the  land  that  "  Terry  had 
captured  Fort  Fisher,"  which  was  followed  soon  after  by  a  long 
ej^istle  from  the  proud  and  happy  absent  one,  who  had  been 
permitted  to  take  a  part  in  the  glorious  enterprise.  The  letter 
came  just  as  the  gas  was  lighted  for  the  evening,  and  we  will 
take  the  liberty  of  looking  over  the  reader's  shoulder  for  a 
share  of  the  stirring  contents.  It  was  dated  January  16th, 
the  day  succeeding  the  o'apture  of  the  fort,  and  gave  a  glow- 
ing account  of  all  that  had  been  done  from  the  time  they 
started  up  to  the  date  of  its  fall: 

"  My  ^Yife, — I  scarcely  know  how  to  begin,  where  there  is 
so  much  to  say,  and  with  the  powerful  scenes  that  mark  this 
day,  all  around  me  to  shame  the  weak  eflforts  of  my  pen  at 
description.  We  set  out  upon  our  journey  under  unfavorable 
auspices,  encountering  a  heavy  storm  almost  as  soon  as  we 
found  ourselves  fairly  launched  upon  the  trackless  deep.  It 
was  with  great  difficulty  that  we  were  able  to  double  Cape 


CAPTURE   OF   FORT  FISHER. 


3G1 


Hatteras,  and  many  of  the  smaller  transports  were  compelled 
to  heave  to  and  await  the  sinking  of  the  tempest.  After  a 
few  hours,  however,  the  wind  changed,  and  we  steamed  rap- 
idly towards  Beaufort  over  a  smooth  sea.  We  found  Admi- 
ral Porter  already  at  this  place  when  we  entered  the  harbor, 
with  his  co-operating  fleet  of  gun-boats.  Fort  Macon  frowned 
upon  us  like  a  stern  sentinel,  but  we  laughed  m  its  face  on  be- 
holding the  glorious  array  of  strength  about  us,  and  lifted  our 
faces  with  a  proud  consciousness  of  power  that  was  in  itself, 
a  surety  of  the  success  which  is  now  our  own. 

"I  do  not  remember  ever  to  have  seen  a  more  beautiful  day 
than  the  ninth  of  January.     Beaufort  seemed  to  lie  in  quiet 
and  peaceful  repose  upon  our  right,  its  lines  softened  by  the 
distance.     Upon  the  left.  Fort  Macon  rose  nearer  and  more 
fonnidable,  with  its  bristling  artillery  and  grim  walls.     Afar 
up  the  harbor,  Morehead  City  shone  like  a  speck  of  life  in 
comparison,  but  it  bore  its  important  part,  and  therefore  de- 
serves mention.     Looking  seaward,  we  find  the  Carolina  coast, 
which  here  breaks  into  an  opening  and  is  called  Cape  Lookout. 
"Tuesday  dawned  with  a  threat  of  storming.     The  clouds 
were  heavy,  with  a  raw,  wintry  wind  and  misty  rain,  while 
great,  angry  waves  rolled  up  from  the  sea  upon  a  dismal  shore. 
Such  dense  clouds  of  vapor  brooded  over  sea  and  land,  we 
could  not  even  discern  the  outline  of  Beaufort,  lately  so  beau- 
tiful under  the  dazzling  beams  of  a  glorious  sun.     One  of  the 
heavy  storms  peculiar  to  the  latitude  and  season  was  upon  us, 
and  our  largest  vessels  were  forced  to  throw  out  additional 
anchors,  while  the  others  sought  a  more  sheltered  spot.     In 
the  afternoon,  a  brig  was  driven  near  us  in  a  disabled  condi- 
tion, and  we  sent  to  her  relief  as  soon  as  possible,  tugging  her 
to  a  place  of  safety,  while  the  gale  increased  to  a  hurricane, 
as  the  day  wore  on.     The  steamers  were  obhged  to  keep  up 
steam  to  keep  from  being  blown  ashore,  and  the  ocean  was 
one  vast  sheet  of  snowy  foam.     I  cannot  describe  the  horrors 
and  discomforts  of  that  night,  especially  for  the  troops  on  the 
transports,  exposed  to  the  beating  rains,  driving  winds  an- 


362     A  STOKY  or  the  great  rebellion. 

icy  spray  from  the  sea.  About  midnight  the  fury  of  the  storm 
somewhat  abated,  and  by  morning  it  had  gone  down  suffi- 
ciently to  allow  the  fleet  to  reassemble.  At  one  o'clock  the 
order  was  given  for  the  squadron  to  make  ready  to  sail,  each 
vessel  having  its  position  assigned  to  it.  By  sunset  the  war 
vessels  were  under  way,  and  under  the  careful  directions  for 
the  order  in  which  the  advance  was  to  be  made,  the  others  fol- 
lowed. The  vapor  had  disappeared  as  the  sun  sank  in  the 
gorgeous  splendor  that  succeeds  a  storm,  and  a  full  moon  rose 
majestically  over  the  blue  waters. 

"As  the  fleet  swept  on  over  the  great,  sublime  wells  of  the 
sea,  a  populous  city  seemed  suddenly  to  have  sprung  upon  the 
waves.  From  the  peak  and  flag-staff"  of  every  vessel,  the  sus- 
pended lamps  shot  out  their  rays  into  the  night,  creating  a 
scene  of  more  than  earthly  beauty.  By  morning  tlie  ocean 
had  sunk  to  a  perfect  calm.  A  sail  of  about  seventy  miles 
brought  us  to  New  Inlet,  where  the  fleet  which  was  to  enter 
from  the  Atlantic  Ocean  would  pass  within  the  mouth  of  Cape 
Fear  River. 

"Thursday  morning,  the  12th,  dawned  perfectly  beautiful. 
The  wind  was  low,  the  ocean  smooth,  the  sunshine  glorious. 
Fleet  and  sea  and  frowning  fort  were  bathed  in  a  flood  of 
splendor.  General  Terry,  in  command  of  the  land  forces, 
crossed  the  bar  in  the  flag-ship  McClellan,  and  fired  a  signal 
for  the  transports  to  get  under  way ;  Admiral  Porter  took  his 
position  in  the  Malvern,  at  the  head  of  the  gun-boat  fleet,  and 
before  noon  the  entire  armada  swept  gracefully  on  over  the 
unruffled  waters.  Such  a  scene  as  that  never  before  greeted 
mortal  eyes.  Here  peace  and  power  seemed  to  clasp  hands 
under  the  brilliant  splendor  of  a  matchless  day.  The  glossy 
blue  of  the  ocean  mirrored  still  bluer  skies^  dotted  over  with 
the  varied  vessels  of  the  fleet — every  size  and  shape  rising 
clearly  relieved  from  the  shining  surface  of  the  waves.  Over 
these  vessels  streamed  the  dark  swarms  of  men,  into  whose 
hands  our  lives  seemed  to  have  been  committed,  and  from 
every  side  shone  the  bright  colors  of  our  fluttering  flags  and 


CAPTURE   OF   FORT   FISHER.  3G3 

pennons,  while  through  the  midst  burst  wild,  sweet  waves  of 
martial  music  from  the  bands.  The  forward  ships  could  not 
be  seen  by  those  in  the  rear,  and  the  monitors  which  could  not 
sail  with  the  other  vessels,  had  to  be  taken  in  tow  to  keep 
them  in  line  with  the  squadron. 

"AVe  advanced  thus,  with  good  speed  upon  the  fort,  which 
in  its  grim  and  massive  power,  commanded  New  Inlet  upon 
the  north.  A  grand  sunset  closed  this  lovely  day,  and  four 
additional  steamers  from  the  east  were  joined  to  the  squadron. 
The  vessels  m  advance  halted  slightly,  givmg  those  in  the  rear 
time  to  close  up,  and  as  the  twilight  deepened  into  night,  the 
lights  once  more  swung  from  the  mast  heads,  kindling  the 
scene  to  a  wild  and  picturesque  beauty.  Now,  as  the  moon 
rose  about  nine  o'clock,  lighting  up  the  land,  signal  lights 
were  exchanged  upon  the  water,  indicating  that  the  hour  for 
some  important  movement  had  arrived.  From  the  walls  of 
Fort  Fisher  flaunted  the  rebel  banner,  wliile  in  the  rear  great 
billowy  waves  of  ruddy  light  thrown  up  against  the  starry 
sky,  signaled  to  the  inhabitants  of  Wilmington  the  unwel- 
come approach  of  the  Union  forces.  At  eleven  o'clock  the 
squadron  came  to  anchor  where  it  could  shelter  the  approach 
of  the  transports  by  its  guns,  allowing  the  troops  to  land,  who 
were  to  storm  the  fort  immediately  the  ships  had  done  the 
dutv  assiffned  to  them  of  bombardment. 

"  The  13th  of  January  was  a  propitious  day  for  our  un- 
dertaking— a  refreshing  breeze  from  the  sea — clear  sky  and 
glorious  sun  overhead,  and  everything  heart  could  desire  to 
give  us  the  inspiration  of  exterior  surroundings,  for  success. 
The  frigate  Brooklyn,  leading  a  number  of  war  vessels,  slowly 
skirted  the  shore,  tossing  their  enormous  shells  into  the  forest, 
and  wherever  it  was  supposed  any  rebel  troops  might  be  con- 
cealed. Not  an  answering  gun  hailed  our  approach,  and  after 
thus  reconnoitering  the  ground,  preparations  Avere  made  to 
land  the  forces.  The  transport  boats  were  flung  out  as  with 
one  impulse  of  will,  and  the  water  swanned  ^A-ith  the  fairy- 
like flotilla.     O,  how  the  cheers  rent  the  air — how  keenly  the 


364  A   STORY   OP   THE   GEEAT  EEBELLIOX. 

bugles  piped  their  joyous  notes,  and  the  bands  crashed  into 
their  weaker  music  with  their  exultant  voices !  Hundreds  of 
strong  hands  grasped  the  oars,  and  myriads  of  diamond-like 
drops  flashed  from  their  glancing  blades  in  the  sunlight. 

"  While  this  was  taking  place,  the  new  Ironsides,  afraid  of 
nothing,  and  accompanied  by  the  monitors,  took  their  places 
defiantly  in  point-blank  range  of  the  fort,  and  opened  upon 
it  with  a  daring,  destructive  fire.  Cowards  were  transformed 
into  brave  men  that  day,  and  the  blood  leaped  like  fire  through 
the  coolest  veins.  Before  three  o'clock,  the  land  forces,  with 
the  exception  of  the  '  reserve,'  were  all  ashore  and  ready  for 
action.  AVe  made  the  landing  upon  a  line  of  hard  beach 
about  five  miles  above  the  fort,  and  were  drawn  up  in  military 
order  for  the  length  of  two  miles  in  extent  of  line.  The  bom- 
bardment was  progressing  bravely,  and  about  half-past  four. 
Porter  signaled  for  the  remaining  gun-boats  to  move  into  po- 
sition and  take  part  in  it.  Thus  far  the  Ironsides  and  three 
monitors  had  done  their  work  so  well  with  their  deadly  shot 
and  shell,  the  rebels  were  forced  to  take  refuge  in  their  case- 
mates, rarely  venturing  to  return  the  compliments  paid  them. 
When  they  did  fire,  it  was  at  the  intrepid  monitors,  who  did 
not  even  take  the  trouble  to  smile  at  the  pigmy  attempts  to 
annihilate  them.  At  length  all  the  ships  were  engaged  in  the 
action,  however,  and  then,  indeed,  the  scene  took  a  sublime 
and  awful  aspect.  From  the  midst  of  dense  clouds  of  lower- 
ing smoke,  which  had  settled  upon  the  face  of  the  waters, 
great  tongues  of  flame  leaped  up,  followed  by  a  crashing,  as 
of  mighty  thunders.  The  roar  was  incessant,  and  as  night 
advanced,  and  the  gloom  of  smoke  and  moonless  sky  made 
more  vivid  the  battle-lights,  one  might  be  pardoned  for  recall- 
ing Milton's  sublimely  awful  picture  of  the  infernal  regions. 
Vast  flames  of  lurid  light  ran  through  the  whole  wide  expanse 
of  action,  and  as  the  missiles  hissed  through  the  air,  the  ex- 
plosions seemed  to  shake  both  sea  and  land.  In  the  meantime, 
the  land  forces  had  diminished  the  distance  by  more  than  two 
miles  between  themselves  and  the  fort:  and  after  a  time  the 


CAPTURE    OF   FORT   FISHER.  365 

flash  of  camp-fires  along  their  lines,  added  to  the  breadth  and 
beauty  of  the  singular  scene. 

"  Saturday  morning,  showed  Fort  Fisher  without  a  visible 
flag-staff,  it  having  been  shot  away  in  the  night.  But  about 
eight  o'clock  the  rebels  ran  up  another  to  show  that  they  were 
still  alive  and  defiant  as  ever.  General  Terry  had  landed  and 
established  his  head-quarters  on  shore  in  the  very  foremost 
ranks  of  his  men.  By  this  time,  two  parallel  lines  of  breast- 
works had  been  thrown  up,  extending  across  the  peninsula 
from  the  ocean  to  Cape  Fear  River.  One  of  these  was  to 
prevent  the  approach  of  any  re-enforcements  to  the  be- 
leaguered fort,  and  the  other,  the  escape  of  the  garrison  by 
land. 

"  On  Sunday,  the  bombardment  continued  during  the  morn- 
incr,  but  the  rebels  succeeded  in  runnino;  down  six  steamers 
from  Wilminjjton,  and  landing^  about  three  hundred  men  in 
the  fort.  It  was  done  amidst  such  a  shower  of  shells  from 
the  fleet  however,  the  steamers  were  compelled  to  retire. 
At  noon  such  a  breach  had  been  made  in  the  sea  face  of  the 
wall,  it  was  deemed  expedient  to  attempt  a  charge,  with  a 
strong  hope  for  success.  No  one  thought  the  rebels  would 
not  make  a  desperate  resistance,  and  yet  the  determination  to 
make  the  charge  gathered  force  from  consideration,  and  we 
began  at  once  to  prepare  for  it.  The  boats,  filled  with  men, 
were  lowered  upon  the  outer  side  of  the  ships,  thus  screening 
them  from  observation,  while  at  the  same  time  the  land  forces 
advanced  in  a  resolute  attack  upon  the  land  side.  The  land 
forces,  almost  in  rear  of  the  fort,  with  Generals  Ames  and 
Curtis  to  direct  them,  made  the  first  move  upon  the  fortress, 
met  by  a  furious  resistance.  But  they  never  faltered  or  paused 
in  their  onward  path,  hewing  down  the  stockade  and  chevaux- 
de-frise,  until  they  had  pressed  on  to  a  lodgment  in  the  north- 
east corner  of  the  fort.  Here  General  Curtis  sent  the  national 
flag  proudly  floating  upon  the  breeze  from  the  ramparts,  and 
was  greeted  by  deafening  cheers.  While  the  uproar  and  car- 
nage was  at  its  height — while  the  fleet  kept  up  its  deadly  fire 


Sob  A  STOEY  OF  THE  GREAT  REBELLION 

upon  that  portion  of  the  fort  which  the  patriots  had  not  yet 
penetrated,  the  sailors  and  marines  burst  into  the  arena  with 
their  cutlasses,  revolvers,  and  muskets,  to  take  part  in  the 
daring  conflict.  They  had  come  in  the  face  of  the  bristling 
cannon,  running  up  the  beach  into  the  very  jaws  of  death, 
while  great  gaps  were  swept  through  their  ranks  as  they  ran. 
By  the  time  they  reached  the  ramparts,  the  whole  beach  over 
which  they  had  passed,  was  strewn  with  the  dead  and 
wounded.  And  now,  three  of  our  national  flags  rose  above 
the  rear  walls  of  Fort  Fisher,  followed  by  the  bravest  and 
most  resolute  effort  ever  made  to  seize  a  stronghold.  It  was 
the  grandest  spectacle  that  ever  moved  under  mortal  eye,  to 
see  nearly  two  thousand  men  running  through  the  most  pitiless 
storms  of  shot  with  loud,  defiant  cheers  upon  their  dauntless 
lips.  Each  boat's  crew  carried  its  own  ensign  and  distin- 
guishing flag,  and  these  glittering  banners  moved  gorgeously, 
while  the  flames  flashed  in  their  faces,  and  great  billows  of 
smoke  rolled  up  over  and  around  them.  The  ground  under 
their  feet  was  shaken  by  the  heavy  thunders  of  artillery,  and 
over  which  they  trod  with  unfaltering  steps,  and  spirits  de- 
termined as  death. 

"This  combat  was  waged  for  six  fearful  hours,  and  often 
hand  to  hand,  ere  a  decided  advantao-e  was  gained.  But  the 
storming  of  the  fort  by  the  naval  brigade  had  been  effective, 
and  served  to  aid  the  troops  in  gaining  a  foothold  from  which 
they  could  not  easily  be  dislodged ;  yet  how  long  this  foothold 
might  be  maintained  was  a  question  which  would  probably  be 
solved  by  the  loss  of  hundreds  of  brave  men.  The  rebels 
could  sweep  the  entire  interior  of  the  fort  with  both  musketry 
and  artillery ;  and  from  Fort  Buchanan  in  the  south-west,  they 
now  opened  fire  upon  us,  also.  Yet  our  undaunted  General 
(Ames)  never  gave  way  in  his  forward  pressure,  until  nine 
traverses  had  been  captured.  Being  now  almost  night,  and 
the  troops  nearly  exhausted.  General  Terry  sent  forward  re- 
inforcements, consisting  of  one  brigade  and  a  colored  regiment, 
then  the  whole  force  was  again  pressed  forward,  and  the  con- 


CAPTURE   OF   FORT   FISHER.  367 

flict  renewed  with  tenfold  fury.  Traverse  after  traverse  was 
taken  in  rapid  succession,  and  finally  the  victory  won !  But 
it  was  past  ten  o'clock  at  night  ere  the  fort  was  actually  in 
our  possession,  and  purchased  by  the  lives  of  hundreds  of 
men  who  had  fiillen  to  rise  no  more. 

"  But  oh,  what  an  hour  was  that  for  those  who  had  fought 
around  and  within  those  walls,  when  General  Terry  announced 
to  the  xVdmiral  by  signal,  that  the  fort  was  ours !  The  whole 
sky  seemed  one  vast  blaze  of  light,  from  the  meteoric  shower 
flung  up  from  the  fleet  amid  loud  shouts  of  rejoicing!  When 
the  rebel  flag  went  down,  and  the  star-spangled  banner  was  run 
up  in  its  place,  such  cheers  were  never  before  heard  from  the 
throats  of  men!  The  order  had  been  given  to  stop  firing,  and 
their  cheers  rang  over  the  waters  in  long,  almost  demoniac 
yells  of  wild  and  fierce  delight." 

Astrea  dropped  the  letter  upon  her  lap  with  a  deep  breath, 
while  the  proud  glow  of  cheek  and  eye  expressed  the  excite- 
ment to  which  she  could  not  give  words.  Helen's  clasped 
hands  relaxed  as  she  uttered  thankfully : 

"  Oh,  to  have  come  out  safe  and  victorious  from  such  fear- 
ful carnage!  How  grateful  I  feel,  that  our  world  was  not 
sunk  in  seas  of  blood.     But  when  is  he  coming  home?" 

"He  cannot  tell — soon,  he  hopes,"  answered  Astrea,  read- 
ing from  the  concluding  page ;  "  we  need  not  be  surprised  to 
see  him  now  at  any  time.  Ah !  here  is  something  else !  Our 
good  friend.  Captain  Meridan,  was  badly  wounded  in  one  arm, 
while  fio-htinff  with  the  heroic  coolness  of  an  old  soldier.  He 
will  send  or  bring  the  Captain  here  for  us  to  nurse  back  to 
health  again.     Very  well,  I  will  not  object  now." 

Helen  laughed. 

"  Nor  I.  It  will  seem  natural  to  have  some  one  to  take  care 
of  again,  and  you  are  now  proof  against  his  fascinations,  being 
the  sole  property  of  his  gallant  commanding  officer.  They 
cannot  come  too  soon.  1  am  growing  weary  of  this  tame,  un- 
eventful life." 


368  A   STORY    OF    THE    GREAT   REBELLION". 

"  Tame !  Uneventful  I  "  cried  Astrea,  laughing  in  her  turn. 
"To  me  it  seems  anything  else!  " 

"  0, 1  mean  comparatively,  of  course.  You  know  it  is  very 
different  from  that  which  we  have  experienced  in  the  past,  and 
it  frets  me  to  see  uniforms  out  of  their  proper  places.  One 
might  think  New  York  a  battle-field,  counting  the  number  of 
officers  that  may  be  seen  upon  the  streets,  only  for  the  unex- 
ceptional cut  of  their  coats,  and  the  splendor  of  their  buttons, 
bars,  eagles  and  stars !  I  long  for  the  sight  of  a  rusty  coat, 
tarnished  bullion  and  the  smell  of  gunpowder,  once  more.  I 
hope  the  Colonel  and  Captain  may  both  be  as  rusty  as  an  old 
copper  before  they  reach  here,  if  only  to  shame  the  others." 

"Doubtless  they  will  be  rusty  enough,"  said  Astrea  ab- 
sently, having  only  half  heard  Helen's  remarks,  and  the  latter 
quietly  left  the  room,  leaving  her  alone  with  the  letter  and  her 
own  thousrhts.       • 


CHAPTEK    XXIX. 

AN    UNLOOKED    FOR   DENOUEMENT. 

Some  days  after  the  receipt  of  Colonel  AYilfer's  letter,  As- 
trea  sat  alone  before  the  grate,  listening  to  the  dreary  sough 
of  the  wind  outside.  It  had  been  a  stormy  day,  and  was  now 
drawing  to  its  close  sullenly,  sobbing  itself  to  rest  with  a  fret- 
ful moanins:,  like  a  willful  child.  Helen  had  gone  next  door 
to  see  a  sick  girl  to  whom  she  had  recently  become  much  at- 
tached, and  Astrea,  on  finding  herself  alone  for  the  evening, 
had  taken  a  chair  in  front  of  the  grate,  where  the  ruddy  light 
fell  brightly  upon  her  sweet  face,  now  growing  rounded  and 
lovely  once  more  under  the  inspiration  of  more  hopeful  days. 

It  was  a  pretty  picture,  as  she  sat  there  with  her  head 
acrainst  the  dark  blue  velvet  lining  of  the  chair,  which  brought 
out  her  face  in  strong  relief,  and  made  it  look  fairer  by  con- 
trast— her  hair  softly  rippling  over  the  dazzling  whiteness  of 
her  brow,  and  the  full  lips  parted  just  enough  to  display  the 
gleam  of  pearly  teeth.  The  large,  dark  eyes  had  grown  very 
soft  and  tender  with  some  lingering  phase  of  thought,  and  the 
little  hands  lying  upon  her  lap  moved  gently  as  she  toyed  with 
the  wedding  ring  upon  its  slender  finger. 

The  door  opened  and  a  light  step  fell  upon  the  carpet,  but 
she  did  not  look  up,  and  spoke  as  one  who  was  but  half  con- 
scious of  what  she  was  saying.  "You  have  returned  early, 
Helen.  I  thought  you  intended  to  spend  the  evening  away. 
What  brings  you  home  so  soon?" 
24 


370  A   STORY    OF   THE    GREAT   REBELLION. 

Instead  of  Helen's  voice,  it  was  a  short,  dry  laugh  wlilch 
answered,  causing  her  to  spring  to  her  feet  and  grasp  the  back 
of  her  chair  for  support,  gazing  with  wild,  distended  eyes  at 
the  cloaked  figure  of  the  intruder.  He  took  a  step  forward 
and  removed  his  hat,  suffering  the  warm  red  light  to  fall  upon 
his  features,  while  the  steelly  glitter  of  his  blue  eyes  met  her 
intense  gaze  mockingly.  Thus  they  stood,  face  to  face,  until 
she  reeled  and  gasped  in  a  broken  voice : 

"  It  cannot — be — Frederic !  I  must  have  gone  mad ! — am 
dreaming  some  wild  dream  of  insanity.  Frederic  was  killed ! 
I  saw  him — dead  on  the  field,  and  buried  him — forgivingly — 
pityingly!  How  could  he  come  out  of  his  grave  to  find  me 
here?" 

The  intruder  laughed  again,  tossing  the  hair  back  from  his 
handsome  forehead,  with  a  movement  full  of  careless  grace. 

"You  may  as  well  come  out  of  your  maze  and  know  the 
truth,  for  I  am  here  to  prove  that  you  never  had  the  pleasure 
of  burying  me,  as  you  thought.  I  was  not  in  that  battle  of 
Corinth." 

She  could  not  speak,  but  still  stared  at  him  fixedly,  and  he 
went  on  in  the  cool,  deliberate  manner  characteristic  with  him : 

"  I  suppose,  since  you  see  that  you  are  mistaken,  you  would 
like  to  know  who  it  was  you  took  for  me,  and  buried  with 
such  sublime  'pity  and  forgiveness.'  Well,  that  was  my 
twin  brother,  Ferdinand,  who  had  been  so  long  in  Europe. 
As  soon  as  he  heard  of  our  national  troubles,  he  hastened 
home  and  came  to  me  to  offer  his  services.  The  spirit  he 
manifested,  made  me  forget  some  old  scores  that  were  between 
us,  and  I  got  for  him  the  vacant  Colonelcy  of  my  regiment,  on 
being  promoted  to  a  higher  rank.  But  it  happened  that  I  had 
other  work  to  do  just  at  the  time  of  that  battle,  and  was  not 
there.  My  brother  fell,  and  you  buried  him,  really  believing, 
I  suppose,  that  it  was  your  beloved  husband !  But  you  will 
have  hard  work  to  make  others  believe  it  when  all  this  grand 
story  comes  out.  You  have  gotten  yourself  into  a  pretty 
tight  place,  if  I  know  anything  about  it." 


ONE   HUSBAND    TOO   MANY.  371 

Astrea  took  no  notice  of  the  last  remark.  From  a  host  of 
bewildered  ideas,  but  one  of  importance  was  evolved.  Seizing 
his  arm  with  passionate  vehemence,  she  cried  out  in  quick, 
short  gasps,  while  life  and  death  seemed  struggling  within  her : 

"Ferdinand I — he  had  a  child!  It  was  his  daughter  of 
whom  your  mother  wrote — who  is  dead !  Not  my  child — not 
Lillian!     Oh,  speak!" 

"Yes,  it  was  his  child — Lillian  also,  as  both  were  named 
for  our  mother.  His  wife  died  in  Italy,  and  he  brought  his 
daughter  to  her  grandmother  to  be  taken  care  of.  By  the 
Lord  Harry,  all  this  is  better  than  a  play!  Talk  of  novels, 
romances  and  that  sort  of  thing!  It  beats  them  all  to  see 
Avhat  a  string  of  events  has  been  made." 

His  tirade  was  here  cut  short  by  the  heavy  falling  of  poor 
Astrea,  who  sank  without  a  sigh  at  his  feet,  and  he  stood 
looking  at  her  for  a  minute  without  movino;.  With  the  first 
signs  of  life,  he  lifted  her  up  and  placed  her  in  a  chair,  then 
took  another  for  himself,  and  sat  facing  her,  coolly  waiting 
until  she  was  able  to  speak. 

"Lily! — where  is  she?"  soon  came  faintly  from  her  lips. 

"  O,  never  mind  her  now ;  she  is  safe  enough.  We  have 
other  things  to  talk  about.  You  don't  ask  me  what  especially 
brouo-ht  me  here." 

She  was  silent. 

"I  have  come  to  claim  my  wife,"  he  continued  in  sIoav, 
measured  tones. 

She  started  as  if  from  a  severe  blow. 

"No!  no!  I  am  not  your  wife!"  she  falter.ed,  putting  out 
both  hands  as  if  to  shield  herself.     "You  cannot  take  me!" 

"We  shall  see.  You  will  quietly  go  with  me  wherever  I 
choose  to  take  you,  or  stand  a  trial  for  bigamy.  Will  that 
suit  you  any  better?  You  see  I  have  a  very  strong  case 
against  you,  and  fancy  that  I  can  make  a  rare  old  time  for 
you  before  I  have  done.  It  will  not  make  the  matter  any 
better  for  you,  certainly,  to  have  married  the  rascal  who  cap- 
tured me  and  had  me  under  sentence  of  death!     Now  I  un- 


372  A   STORY   OF   THE    GREAT   REBELLION. 

derstand  how  you  got  your  power  to  release  me — played  sweet 
on  him  and  won  him  over  through  his  love  for  you !  Good ! 
by  the  Lord  Harry.  But,  why  the  devil  did  you  not  let  them 
hang  me  and  get  me  out  of  your  way  then !  Suppose,  how- 
ever, the  idea  was  not  quite  agreeable,  to  let  him  hang  me, 
then  turn  around  and  marry  him.  Then  you  wanted  to  get 
the  child,  and  knew  you  would  not  dare  to  go  after  her.  Its 
all  very  well  for  me,  as  things  have  turned  out.  I  owe  both 
of  you  a  grudge,  and  having  you  under  my  thumb,  can  pay 
it  off  with  interest.  Your  most  noble  lord  will  be  home  in  a 
few  days  ?  Good  I  I  shall  be  on  hand ;  the  condition  of  my 
revolver  is  always  perfect,  and  she  never  hangs  fire,"  saying 
which  he  took  a  small,  silver  mounted  pistol  from  his  pocket 
and  examined  it  caressingly. 

For  a  moment,  Astrea's  blood  coursed  coldly  through  her 
veins ;  but  reason  was  slowly  rising  above  emotions  of  pain 
and  fear,  and  her  eye  was  kindling  with  its  old,  steady,  scorn- 
ful light.  He  was  surprised  when  she  demanded  in  a  totally 
changed  voice : 

"Being  a  rebel  officer,  how  does  it  happen  that  you  dare 
thus  boldly  to  venture  into  the  enemy's  country?" 

"  O,  I  was  captured  again  by  the  Feds,  and  being  rather 
tired  of  the  service,  concluded  to  take  Father  Abe's  amnesty 
oath  and  look  around  the  North  a  little  for  a  chancre.  I  had 
been  to  Eichmond  for  a  special  purpose,  and  in  attempting  to 
return,  got  picked  up  by  Phil  Sheridan's  cavalry.  Then,  as  I 
said  before,  I  thought  I'd  like  a  change." 

"  So  you  find  yourself  at  large  amongst  us.  I  suppose,  of 
course,  being  a  general  officer,  you  were  specially  pardoned 
by  the  President,  according  to  the  requirements,  before  being 
permitted  to  take  the  oath?" 

He  darted  a  quick,  keen  glance  at  her,  and  replied  rather 
hastily : 

"  Yes !  That  is  all  right.  I  got  a  special  pardon,  and  came 
here  to  '  crack  nuts '  with  my  sweet  and  dutiful  wife.  By  the 
luckiest  accident  in  the  world,  I  came  across  an  old  friend  of 


A   CONFLICT   OF   NATURES    AGAIN. 


373 


yours— a  Doctor  Grey,  who  informed  me  that  you  were  here, 
and  gave  me  your  address.  He  sent  his  most  respectful  com- 
pliments to  'Mrs.  Wilfer,'"  following  this  speech  with  a  tri- 
umphant laugh. 

She  sat  still,  looking  at  him  with  a  gaze  that  made  hmi 
change  his  position  uneasUy,  and  ask  her  why  she  looked  at 
liim  in  that  fashion. 

"Because  I  see  that  in  trying  to  deceive  me,  you  have  be- 
trayed yourself,  Frederic  Passiver;  and  so  far  from  having  me 
in  your  power,  have  placed  yourself  hopelessly  in  mine.  I 
understand  the  whole  thing  now.  So  bitter  a  rebel  as  you, 
could  not  change  without  some  purpose  in  view,  and  you  went 
to  Eichmond  to  apply  for  leave  to  come  North  on  secret  ser- 
vice. Then  you  allowed  yourself  to  be  taken  by  our  cavalry, 
took  the  oath  and  came  on  here  for  the  sole  motive  of  playing 
the  spy.  Have  you  not  already  proved  to  me  your  estimation 
of  the  binding  character  of  an  oath,  and  shall  I  do  wrong  to 
judge  you  by  the  past?  As  self-preservation  is  the  first  law 
of  nature,  I  do  not  see  why  I  should  not  be  justifiable  in  giv- 
ino-  you  up  at  once  to  the  proper  authorities  as  a  spy!" 

While  she  was  speaking  he  had  turned  fearfully  pale,  star- 
ing blankly  at  her  resolute  face.  But  almost  immediately  he 
recovered  himself  and  put  on  a  defiant  manner  calculated  to 

mislead  her. 

"You  can  try  it  if  you  like,  but  the  result  will  be  a  notori- 
ety that  cannot  be  much  to  your  credit,  since  the  object  for 
such  a  step  would  become  too  apparent  for  doubt— to  get  me 
out  of  your  way!  I  am  not  such  a  fool  as  to  thrust  my  head 
into  the  lion's  mouth  without  first  seeing  that  all  his  teeth  are 
rendered  powerless  to  hurt  me.  Come,"  and  he  rose  to  his 
feet.  "What  is  your  decision?  Will  you  go  with  me  now, 
or  is  there  to  be  open  war  between  us— the  charitable  public 
umpire,  to  decide  who  wins?" 

"War,  if  vou  will,"  she  answered  with  a  sharp  ring  of  un- 
bending will  in  her  voice.  "I  shall  have  no  fears  for  myself 
if  the  public  is  left  to  decide  my  case— a  loyal  northern  public 


374  A    STOKY    OF    THE    GREAT   REBELLIOX. 

which  shall  know  the  nature  and  course  of  the  antagonist  with 
whom  I  have  to  deal.  Every  loyal  soul  in  the  land  will  rally 
to  my  side;  and  every  tender  mother's  heart  will  bleed  for  the 
anguish  you  have  caused  me  to  suffer  through  my  child,  of 
whom  I  am  so  cruelly  bereaved !  Yes,  let  it  be  war,  and  let 
it  come  quickly!" 

Her  face  glowed,  and  her  eyes  flashed  most  gloriously  now. 
A  crushed,  helpless  woman  was  no  longer  before  him,  but  a 
heroine,  grand  and  strong  in  her  sense  of  rio-ht  and  innocence. 
He  changed  his  manner  of  attack  and  approached  her  with 
fiendish  strategy. 

"Xot  just  yet!  I  can  wait  a  little  while,  since  time  brings 
fullness  of  revenge.  This  little  friend  of  mine,"  tapping  his 
pistol,  "  and  I,  have  an  account  to  settle  with  Colonel  Wilfer. 
I  am  goino;  to  wait  for  the  gallant  Colonel,  and  see  what  he 
has  to  say  for  himself,  looking  out  for  you  in  the  meantime." 

"  I  know  you  would  not  hesitate  to  murder  him,  if  your  own 
personal  safety  did  not  prove  his  strongest  safeguard,"  she  re- 
phed,  while  a  shade  of  color  faded  from  her  cheek.  "  But  you 
will  not  dare  to  harm  him  save  in  secret,  and  if  you  do  that,  I 
am  still  left  to  give  you  into  the  hands  of  justice.  You  cannot 
escape." 

"Humph!  What  will  prevent  my  serving  you  the  same 
way,  if  I  choose  ?  Let  me  tell  you  that  mortal  man  or  woman 
cannot  escape  the  law  of  my  revenge !  Listen,  and  I  will  give 
you  a  little  piece  of  news  that  will  serve  to  confirm  what  I  say. 
Do  you  remember  your  good  old  friend.  Doctor  Early  ?  I  had 
a  long  score  laid  up  with  him  before  the  war,  and  I  resolved 
to  pay  it  off  with  interest.  I  suspected  him  of  a  great  many 
things  that  I  could  not  prove  until  after  the  war  began ;  but 
then  I  watched  him,  and  found  out  very  soon  that  he  was  a 
regular  Union  man,  out  and  out!  That  was  enough  for  me, 
and  I  set  a  trap  for  the  old  fool,  into  which  he  ran  his  head 
straight  off.  He  was  up  to  all  sorts  of  tricks,  and  I  caught 
him  in  one,  which  gave  me  a  chance  to  seize  him  for  trial.  I 
sent  a  squad  of  my  own  men  to  arrest  him,  and  he  could  not 


ON   SECRET   SERVICE. 


375 


bring  lip  one  Item  of  self-defence.  I  charged  him,  among 
other  things,  with  running  off  that  boy  Kufus,  and  he^  stood 
up  Hke  a  hard-headed  fool  and  owned  to  everything,  thinking 
it  heroic,  I  reckon!  But  he  got  his  neck  stretched  in  conse- 
quence!    I  had  him  strung  up  right  there,  and  saw  him  die 

the  death  of  a  traitor  to  his  country,  and  a  d scoundrel! 

Now  what  do  you  say  to  that?" 

"  That  it  is  like  you  to  revel  in  cruelty  and  injustice !  Oh, 
Doctor  Early !  dear  old  friend,  to  die  such  a  death  and  at  his 
hands!  Frederic  Passiver,  are  you  all  bad?  Is  there  not 
one  soft  or  humane  spot  In  your  hard  heart?  Have  you  no 
fear  of  the  consequences  of  your  deeds?  Beware  ere  you 
pass  wholly  beyond  the  pale  of  God's  mercy,  if  you  have  not 
done  that  already ! " 

"  Don't  worry  about  me  in  that  respect.  Plenty  of  time  to 
get  '  good '  after  I  have  had  my  revenge.  Now,  my  fair  Avlfe, 
I  am  ^obliged  to  take  my  leave  of  you,  but  would  suggest  that 
you  keep'' it  in  mind  that  my  eyes  are  ever  upon  you;  and 
that,  through  the  many  I  shall  employ  to  watch  your  move- 
ments, it  will  be  utterly  impossible  for  you  to  do  anything  of 
which  I  shall  not  immediately  become  cognizant.  Good-night, 
and  pleasant  dreams." 

Ere  his  closing  speech  had  died  upon  her  ear,  he  had  passed 
out  into  the  hall  and  opened  the  street-door  for  himself.  As 
he  ran  down  the  steps,  a  figure  came  out  of  the  gloom  upon 
one  side  and  joined  him  familiarly. 

"Well,  Grey,  Pve  got  her  frightened  almost  to  death;" 
and  he  laughed  a  cold,  hard  laugh  that  grated  harshly  upon 
the  ear.  "  But  she's  desperate,  too,  and  as  spunky  as  a  wor- 
ried cat.  We  will  have  to  work  with  caution.  Have  you 
any  news?" 

"Yes,  you  are  to  report  to  Thompson  immediately.' 
"The  deuce  I  am!     I  am  not  partial  to  leaving  the  city 
just  now,  with  all  this  prospect  for  fun  before  me.     Before  I 
can  get  back,  she  will  have  had  time  to  get  away." 

"Leave  me  to  watch  her  movements  and  keep  you  advised 


376  A   STORY   OF   THE    GREAT   REBELLION. 

of  what  Is  going  on.  It  will  not  take  you  much  over  a  week, 
and  then  you  can  remain  here  until  the  signal  is  given  to  move 
on  to  Washington." 

Passiver  was  thoughtful  for  some  moments. 

"  I  suppose  I  must,  but  I  don't  like  it.  When  am  I  to  go  ? — 
to-night?" 

"Yes,  you  had  better.  And  as  for  her,  an  invisible  foe  is 
worse  than  an  open  enemy.  She  will  suffer  much  more 
anxiety  if  you  keep  entirely  out  of  sight." 

"  By  the  Lord  Harry,  Grey,  you  and  I  ought  to  have  lived 
a  few  centuries  earlier!  Our  ingenuity  will  fail  to  be  appre- 
ciated in  these  times.  You  are  right!  It  is  better  to  let  the 
leaven  work  while  we  accomplish  that  which  has  brought  us 
here.  I'm  afraid  I  made  a  mistake  there  once  to-night.  I 
had  forgotten  that  she  was  as  sharp  as  steel." 

"Why,  what  did  you  do?" 

"  Told  her  I  had  been  especially  pardoned  by  the  President, 
Afterwards  she  made  out  a  pretty  clear  case  against  me, 
coming  much  nearer  the  truth  than  I  relished.  But  I  braved 
her  out  with  a  little  bravado,  and  think  I  shook  her  faith  in 
her  own  judgment.  I  don't  know,  however,  that  we  need  to 
fear  any  way,  even  if  she  knew  all  about  it.  She's  a  queer 
one — conscientious,  etc." 

"  Tell  me  just  what  was  said  by  each  of  you,"  asked  Grey 
anxiously,  and  Passiver  repeated  it  as  correctly  as  he  could 
from  his  memory  of  the  interview. 

"You  have  acted  the  fool  for  once.  Pen  up  a  woman  in  a 
place  like  the  one  you  have  her  in,  and  then  talk  of  trusting 
to  her  "conscientiousness!"  What's  got  into  you,  man! 
Wait  till  your  work  is  done,  before  you  give  her  the  chance 
to  put  a  halter  round  your  neck.  You  can't  play  with  her 
and  do  the  other  at  the  same  time.  Let  the — trap-door  fall 
first,  then  do  what  you  please." 

Here  the  Doctor  cut  short  his  lecture  and  beckoned  to  a 
hackman.  He  followed  Passiver  into  the  vehicle,  after  giving 
the  order  to  be  driven  to  the  Hudson  Eiver  depot. 


OFF   FOR   CANADA.  377 

"I  am  not  to  see  any  one  licre  before  I  go?" 

"  No ;  you  are  to  go  straight  to  Thompson  for  orders.  At 
Albany  you  will  take  the  New  York  Central  to  Rome ;  there 
change  cars,  and  go  by  way  of  Ogdcnsburg  to  Canada.  Keep 
a  sharp  look  out  for  friends,  and  carry  nothing  about  you  that 
could  be  construed  into  evidence  against  you,  if  anything  hap- 
pens. What  have  you  now  about  your  person  or  in  your 
baf^o-ao-e?" 

"  Nothing  but  some  few  letters,  with  all  the  envelopes  bear- 
ing address  destroyed.  My  clothes  are  not  even  marked. 
You  need  not  fear  for  me.  Grey.  I  am  not  quite  such  a  fool 
as  you  think  me ;  and  I  did  not  venture  up  here  with  my  eyes 
shut." 

"  All  right.     Good  luck  to  you,  old  fellow  I " 

Half  an  hour  later,  Frederic  Passiver  was  being  rapidly 
whirled  along  the  bank  of  the  Hudson,  while  Grey  walked 
back  up  Broadway  to  his  hotel. 

It  was  sometime  after  the  former  left  Astrea,  ere  Helen 
came  home  and  found  her  pacing  the  floor  with  hands  wrung 
together  in  agony,  and  an  expression  of  suffering  upon  her 
face  that  was  startling. 

"Oh,  what  has  happened,  Astrea?  Something  dreadful 
has  occurred.     It  is  no  ill  to  Han'y?" 

"No,  not  Harry!  But  oh,  Helen,  even  the  grave  deceives 
me  I"  she  groaned.  "Frederic  Passiver  has  been  here — has 
tlireatened  everything  terrible — to  kill  Harry — disgrace  me — 
claim  me  as  his  wife  I " 

"Frederic  Passiver!     Astrea,  are  you  mad,  child?" 

"  Alas,  no !  It  would  be  a  mercy  if  I  could  lose  my  dis- 
tracted senses.  Sit  down,  Helen,  and  listen  to  me,  for  some- 
thing must  be  done  quickly.     You  must  try  to  help  me." 

Helen  sank  into  a  chair,  dumb  with  affright.  Astrea  took 
a  stool  and  sat  down  beside  her,  leanino;  her  head  afjainst 
Helen's  shoulder  until  she  had  gained  a  little  composure. 
Then  she  related  all  that  had  happened. 

"Now  you  see  there  is  no  time  to  be  lost,"   she  said  in 


378       A  STORY  OF  THE  GREAT  REBELLION. 

♦ 
conclusion.     "  Will  you  go  to  Washington  and  find  out  if  his 

statement  is  true  ?     He  says  he  will  watch  me,  and  I  dare  not 

try;  but  I  must  have  something  to  hold  him  in  check  until  I 

know  what  to  do  further.     This  seems  my  only  hope." 

"I  will  go  to  the  ends  of  the  earth  for  you  if  I  can  be  of 
any  service  to  you,  as  you  well  know.  But  how  can  I  feel 
sure  that  something  dreadful  will  not  happen  to  you  while  I 
am  away?  Oh,  I  wish  Colonel  Wilfer  was  here.  Let  me 
telegraph  to  him  to  come  to  us  at  once!     Shall  I?" 

"  Not  for  worlds !  Would  you  have  him  come  here  to  be 
shot  down  like  a  dog  by  a  hidden  foe?  Frederic  Passiver 
Avould  not  put  himself  into  such  a  dangerous  position  without 
some  desperate,  deadly  purpose  at  heart,  and  he  goes  armed 
all  the  time — has  emissaries  employed  as  spies,  if  he  spoke 
the  truth,  which  is  likely.  Besides,  dear,  even  if  we  knew 
where  to  send  a  dispatch,  he  must  not  come  here  now,  until — " 

"What?" 

"  Until  I  am  legally  free !  There  is  but  one  course  left  for 
me  to  pursue,  and  until  I  accomplish  my  purpose,  Colonel 
Wilfer  must  not  come  to  me  again.  You  know  he  is  not — 
my  husband! — not  legally  my  husband  now!  " 

"But  oh,  child,  you  thought  him  dead,  and  /can  testify  to 
your  truth  and  goodness !  Your  proofs  are  all  too  strong  to 
give  you  any  uneasiness  as  to  the  result,  and  it  is  Harry's  right 
to  stand  beside  you  in  trouble.  Think  of  all  Passiver  has 
done — what  he  is !  A  cruel  man,  a  bitter  rebel — a  willful  mur- 
derer who  was  under  sentence  of  death,  and  made  his  escape 
from  prison  only  in  time  to  save  his  neck !  How  much  sym- 
pathy do  you  suppose  he  would  find  in  a  northern  court?  He 
would  not  even  dare  to  come  forward  and  oppose  you ; " 

"  But  Helen,  this  must  not  come  before  the  public  if  there 
is  any  help  for  it.  If  we  can  only  get  any  hold  upon  him  to 
keep  him  quiet  for  awhile,  I  hope  to  find  some  way  out  of 
this  wretched  entanglement,  without  actual  harm  to  any  one. 
If  what  we  suspect  should  prove  true,  his  life  is  in  danger, 
and  you  know  that  /  cannot  be  the  instrument  of  harm  to  him. 


TO  WASHINGTON   AND   BACK.  879 

however  deeply  he  may  have  vrronged  me.  I  will  not  do  more 
than  strive  to  protect  myself,  and  must  be  very  careful  in  this, 
lest  I  should  betray  him." 

"  \\  hy  should  you  strive  to  shield  him — a  rebel — mur- 
derer— spy  I"  cried  Helen  with  dawning  indignation.  "He 
Is  doing  his  best  to  crush  you,  after  all  that  he  has  caused  you 
to  suffer  In  the  past !     I  cannot  understand  your  forbearance ! " 

"  Whatever  else  he  may  be,  I  dure  not  forget  that  he  Is  my 
husband — the  father  of  my  child,  and  I  will  not  stain  my 
hands  with  his  blood!  'Vengeance  is  mine,  saith  the  Lord.' 
I  will  leave  him  in  his  hands.  Oh,  Helen,  do  not  add  to  the 
weight  I  bear!  Come  what  may,  I  will  not  injure  him  even 
to  save  myself.  Only  do  what  I  ask,  and  let  me  alone  in  this 
matter.  The  end  will  come,  and  in  my  Father's  time  I  shall 
be  justified." 

"When  shall  I  jjo  to  WashIne;ton ? " 

"  To-night.  Take  the  express  train  at  twelve  o'clock,  and 
go  through.  You  will  not  return  until  you  have  ascertained 
the  truth,  and  learned  whether  he  was  really  pardoned.  That 
is  all  that  Is  necessary  now." 

"Without  reply,  Helen  made  her  few  hasty  preparations,  and 
took  leave  of  Astrea  tearfully.  She  had  but  little  time  left 
before  the  departure  of  the  train,  and,  as  soon  as  she  could  be 
ready,  drove  rapidly  to  the  Jersey  City  Ferry.  But  when  the 
train  went  out,  she  was  safely  seated  In  one  corner,  and  think- 
ing very  earnestly  upon  the  business  that  was  taking  her  thus 
unexpectedly  to  Washington. 

Left  alone,  Astrea  was  naturally  anxious  and  feverishly 
watchful,  but  nothing  of  an  alarming  nature  transpired  to  add 
to  her  uneasiness.  There  were  no  sljjns  visible  of  a  watch 
having  been  set  upon  her  actions.  Still  this  was  no  surety 
against  the  evil  intentions  of  a  man  like  Frederic  Passlver,  and 
she  had  scarcely  eaten  or  slept  when  Helen  returned  two  days 
later.  She  was  almost  ill  with  weariness  from  her  journey, 
and  looked  worn  and  hao-fjard.  Yet  there  was  that  in  her 
heart  which  she  dared  not  show  to  Astrea,  and  she  refrained 


380  A    STORY   OF   THE   GREAT  REBELLION. 

from  putting  a  cheerful  tone  upon  the  face  of  the  news  she 
brou2:ht. 

"  Whom  have  you  seen,  Helen?" 

*'The  President  himself.  I  was  lucky,  and  obtained  a  pri- 
vate interview,  in  which  I  learned  enough  to  destroy  that 
daring  man  inevitably.  A  man  of  the  name,  and  answering 
his  description,  claiming  to  bo  a  private,  was  captured  by 
Sheridan's  cavalry,  and  took  the  oath,  as  he  stated ;  but  no 
man  of  rank  has  received  a  special  pardon.  Evidently  he 
threw  himself  in  the  way  of  the  cavalry,  and  allowed  himself 
to  be  captured — in  which  the  soldiers  only  saw  a  desire  to 
leave  the  rebel  service  without  the  odium  of  desertion.  But 
"WE  know  there  must  be  deeper  reasons  for  such  a  daring  course. 
I  suspect  a  great  deal  that  I  cannot  put  into  any  satisfactory 
shape.  Help  me  to  solve  the  mystery.  What  did  Frederic 
Passiver  leave  Kichmond,  get  captured,  come  here,  and  take 
the  oath /or.?" 

"To  find  me,  certainly." 

Helen  shook  her  head. 

"  How  did  he  know  anything  about  your  being  here  ?  What 
reason  had  he  to  suppose  you  were  not  still  with  the  army?" 

"  You  have  forgotten  that  he  claims  to  have  learned  fi'om 
Doctor  Grey,  who,  you  are  aware,  is  no  friend  of  mine.  You 
remember  our  meeting,  the  day  Harry  went  away  last." 

"Ah,  yes.  and  it  is  this  thing  which  so  puzzles  me,  Astrea! 
How  did  Doctor  Grey  know  just  where  to  find  Frederic  Pas- 
siver the  moment  he  discovered  you  in  New  York?  There  is 
some  mystery  here  that  must  be  unraveled.  Just  as  surely 
as  we  live,  that  man  is  not  here  merely  to  torment  you.  Oi 
course,  that  is  a  part  of  his  purpose,  but  there  are  other  and 
dangerous  reasons,  and  they  are  leagued  in  them.  I  believe 
Doctor  Grey's  discovery  of  you  to  be  purely  accidental,  and 
probably  he  then  saw  a  chance  to  turn  his  discovery  to  some 
personal  advantage.  But  he  did  not  come  here  originally  to 
find  you.  Think  of  his  strange,  unprincipled  course  through- 
out the  war,  and  how  many  things  we  know  against  him  I 


DETECTIVES    AT   "WORK.  381 

Doctor  Grey  was  In  the  prison  that  night  of  Passiver's  escape, 
and  how  do  you  know  he  was  not  there  for  tlie  purpose  of  re- 
leasing him,  on  pretense  of  attending  the  sick  ?  Accident  may 
have  furnished  him  with  what  was  really  about  to  take  place, 
and  it  is  probable  he  then  allowed  Wilter  to  do  the  work  and 
himself  dodge  the  risks,  at  the  same  time  giving  him  a  hold 
upon  poor  Harry.  You  know  how  closely  he  followed  us  up, 
and  how  skillfully  he  worked  until  Captain  AVilfer  was  dis- 
missed the  service !  If  we  could  only  get  at  the  whole  truth, 
I  have  no  doubt  we  should  find  that  they  are  leagued  together, 
and  engaged  now  In  some  terrible  plot  against  the  country." 

Astrea's  pale,  thoughtful  face  was  turned  to  her  now  with 
wistful  questioning. 

"  Yes,  Astrea,  some  terrible  plot.  But  they  are  digging  a 
pit  for  themselves,  and  I  shall  rejoice  to  see  them  fall  into  it! 
Forgive  me  for  taking  steps  against  your  will.  I  love  you  too 
much  to  stand  by  and  see  you  murdered  by  inches,  and  all 
that  I  have  done  was  to  save  you." 

"  What  have  you  done?     Oh,  Helen — " 

"  Nothing  except  what  was  right.  I  told  President  Lincoln 
the  whole  story — all  that  we  have  done,  seen,  suffered,  lost — 
and  he  could  not  doubt  my  truth.  He  stood  up  like  the  good, 
noble  soul  that  he  is,  and  declared  that  you  should  be  pro- 
tected from  persecution  and  danger.  He  has  ordered  detect- 
ives put  upon  their  track,  and,  sooner  or  later,  the  truth  must 
come  out.  I  furnished  a  full  description  of  Grey,  thinking  he 
must  be  In  the  city,  and  now  we  will  have  to  leave  them  to 
the  mercy  of  the  law.  Don't  look  at  me  as  if  I  had  broken 
your  heart,  for  they  deserve  It — they  do  deserve  it !  and  God 
knows  I  have  striven  only  to  serve  you  faithfully,  because  in 
all  the  wide  world  I  have  none  other  to  care  for  me." 

"Oh,  Helen!  Helen!  I  know  that  you  are  good  and  true, 
but  you  do  not  know  what  you  have  done !  I  did  not  want 
hishfe!" 

"  Well,  you  have  not  taken  it.  The  whole  responsibility  is 
upon  my  shoulders.    If  he  is  innocent,  there  is  nothing  to  fear. 


382  A    STORY   OF    THE    GREAT   REBELLIOX. 

If  guilty — why,  let  him  suffer  as  he  deserves.  I  say  he  sliall 
not  longer  worry  you  with  his  diabolical  hatred.  Already  you 
have  allowed  him  to  take  too  many  liberties  with  your  peace. 
It  has  got  to  end  here,  or  he  must  suffer  the  consequences." 

Helen  was  becoming  more  and  more  excited  each  moment, 
but  Astrea,  who  was  calmed  by  the  magnitude  of  her  troubles, 
wisely  remained  silent.  Notwithstanding  her  distress  at  the 
step  Helen  had  taken,  she  could  not  deny  a  sense  of  relief  at 
the  thought  that  no  blow  could  reach  Colonel  Wilfer  through 
the  secret  machinations  of  her  enemy.  The  strict  guard  set 
upon  his  actions  would  prove  a  safeguard  for  the  intended 
victim,  at  least,  and  she  should  not  feel  now  that  he  was  hope- 
lessly exposed  with  no  sure  protection  against  unseen  dangers. 

Still  the  days  passed  very  heavily  after  these  events,  until 
another  letter  came  from  Colonel  Wilfer,  saying  he  could  not 
be  in  New  York  probably  before  the  last  of  April.  This  re- 
moved her  last  fear,  and  turned  her  thoughts  back  from  fears 
for  his  safety  to  things  more  immediately  connected  Avith  her- 
self. Helen  begged  her  to  advise  the  Colonel  of  what  had 
transpired,  but  she  firmly  refused,  resolving  to  keep  the  matter 
a  secret  from  him  until  he  came,  or  she  was  forced  by  some 
imperative  circumstance  to  reveal  it. 

"  It  would  only  hasten  his  coming,"  she  said,  "  and  perhaps 
prove  his  destruction.     ^Vait." 

In  the  meantime  nothing  more  was  seen  or  heard  from  Pas- 
siver,  and  they  were  utterly  ignorant  of  his  movements.  Once 
they  caught  a  gUmpse  of  Doctor  Grey  hovering  in  the  vicmity 
of  the  house ;  but  after  that  he  seemed  to  disappear  also,  and 
they  were  left  to  await  the  fiiture  in  anxious  suspense. 


CHAPTER    XXX. 

THE    LAST    ACT    IN    THE    TRAGEDY,  WITH    BRIGHTER 
CLOSING    SCENES. 

On  the  morning  of  the  15th  of  April,  our  friends  were 
awakened  from  feverish  sleep  by  the  sound  of  hurrying  feet, 
and  wild  confusion  upon  the  pavements.  Helen  sprang  from 
her  bed  and  ran  to  the  window  to  listen  to  the  shrill,  sharp 
cry  of  a  boyish  voice  which  was  repeating  with  startling  dis- 
tinctness : 

"  Here's  th'  Her'ld — all  about  the  'sassination  of  Mr.  Lin- 
coln !  Third  edition.  Seward's  throat  cut  an'  General  Grant 
killed  on  the  cars !     Here's  th'  Her'ld." 

"Oh,  merciful  God,  it  cannot  be!  Killed!  dead!  mur- 
dered— that  brave,  good  man!  Astrea,  President  Lincoln  has 
been  assassinated!"  and  with  the  fearful  announcement  she 
reeled  through  the  room  and  sank  down  like  one  crushed  be- 
side the  bed.  Astrea  sprang  up  with  a  scream  of  anguish, 
catchino;  Helen's  shoulder  and  turning  her  face  to  the  llirht. 
The  thought  that  had  instantly  crossed  her  brain  had  come  to 
both  in  the  same  moment,  and  now  they  gazed  mutely  Into 
each  other's  eyes,  struck  dumb  with  horror.  Helen  was  first 
to  break  the  dreadful  silence.  , 

"Oh,  that  was  it!  I  seem  to  see  It  all  now.  Mr.  Lincoln 
assassinated !  It  was  he  they  came  to  murder !  Horrible, 
horrible!" 

"Walt!  For  God's  sake  do  not  hastily  condemn! "  gasped 
Astrea,  hoarsely,  then  she  fell  back  upon  the  bed  and  lay  mo- 


384:       A  STORY  OF  THE  GREAT  REBELLION. 

tionless  as  If  her  heart  was  breaking  with  its  weight  of  grief 
and  fear. 

What  a  day  was  that  for  them  in  mutely  bearing  the 
burthens  as  if  by  tacit  consent,  and  moving  about  in  bewilder- 
ment of  woe,  robed  in  black  from  head  to  foot,  with  the  same 
sombre  signs  of  grief  floating  heavily  from  every  window 
and  door.  Wherever  they  turned  their  eyes,  sable  drapery 
and  flags  at  half-mast,  with  slow,  mournful  sounds  of  music 
breaking  through  the  deep,  heavy  murmur  of  life  on  the 
streets,  seemed  to  add  to  the  oppressive  load  that  was  crush- 
mg  them  to  the  earth ;  and  in  the  midst  of  this,  came  a  secret 
summons,  calling  them  immediately  to  Washington. 

"Oh,  my  God,  it  is  true,"  said  Astrea,  "and  there  is  no 
escape  for  me !  They  are  calling  me  there  to  consign  him  to 
death  by  my  evidence ! " 

Helen  wrung  her  hands  hopelessly,  overwhelmed  with  the 
fearfulness  of  her  position.  Not  until  she  found  herself  seated 
beside  her  stricken  friend  on  the  way  to  the  Capital,  did  she 
fully  realize  the  importance  of  the  step  she  had  taken,  for  she 
could  not  know  what  was  to  come  when  she  confided  her  story 
and  her  fears  to  the  President  in  her  appeal  for  protection. 
She  could  not  know  that  she  was  then  arming  the  doomed 
man  against  his  secret  foes,  though  retributive  justice  might 
not  reach  them  until  the  life  at  which  they  aimed  had  been 
smitten  from  the  earth. 

They  arrived  in  Washington  just  after  daylight,  and  were 
condvicted  to  a  hotel,  where  after  hasty  refreshment,  they  were 
taken  before  the  Secretary  of  War  and  required  to  "state 
what  they  knew  about  the  prisoners,  Frederic  Passiver  and 
Doctor  Thomas  L.  Grey,  who  had  been  arrested  under  sus- 
i»  picion  of  having  been  cognizant  of,  and  engaged  in  the  plot 
to  assassinate  Abraham  Lincoln." 

They  gave  their  evidence  briefly,  saying  no  more  than  they 
were  obliged  to  say  in  answer  to  the  questions  put  to  them, 
and  were  then  dismissed  and  ordered  to  be  sent  to  the  Old 
Capitol  Prison  to  identify  the  prisoners.     Oh,  with  what  heavy 


CONSPIRACIES    AND   MYSTERIES.  385 

hearts  did  they  re-enter  the  carriage  and  drive  away  toward 
that  o-loomy  pile  where  the  two  conspirators  had  been  confined. 
Helen  was  almost  frantic  with  grief,  and  sobbed  unrestrainedly. 

"I  did  not  know  it  would  bring  you  to  this,  darling!  I 
was  thinking  only  of  you,"  she  whispered,  "can  you  ever  for- 
give me  I " 

For  answer,  Astrea  slipped  her  arm  over  her  neck  and  kissed 
the  tear-wet  cheek,  but  she  could  not  speak,  and  the  gentle- 
men who  accompanied  them,  turned  their  faces  from  the  two 
wretched  beings,  touched  almost  to  tears  by  their  uncontrolla- 
ble distress. 

The  two  men  had  been  confined  in  separate  rooms,  and  they 
were  taken  first  to  Doctor  Grey,  who  lost  all  hope  at  sight  of 
their  fiices,  and  shook  his  fist  at  them  in  impotent  rage.  Up 
to  this  moment  he  had  been  cool  and  defiant,  seeming  to  care 
for  nothing,  but  on  their  appearance,  all  his  hardihood  and 
assurance  suddenly  changed  into  a  fury  of  rage  and  despair. 
On  Frederic  Passiver  the  eflPect  was  no  less  striking,  and  he 
reeled  the  moment  they  appeared,  as  if  he  had  been  struck  a 
heavy  blow  by  an  unseen  hand.  He  had  counted  upon  As- 
trea's  peculiarly  forbearing  temperament,  and  hoped  that  their 
arrest  had  arisen  from  no  action  of  hers,  until  her  presence 
seemed  to  prove  that  she  had  not  been  as  scrupulous  as  he 
deemed  her,  in  taking  steps  to  compass  his  ruin. 

Three  days  of  untold  anguish  followed  that  first  visit,  and 
the  investigations  had  developed  a  strong  circumstantial  evi- 
dence, but  no  proofs,  and  the  authorities  were  at  fault  whether 
they  were  really  in  the  conspiracy  or  not — though  plenty  of 
treachery  and  mystery  had  come  to  light  to  render  their  im- 
prisonment a  matter  of  justice.  In  order  to  keep  down  un- 
necessary excitement,  the  proceedings  were  carried  on  secretly, 
and  Astrea  had  striven  in  vain  to  gain  any  knowledge  of  the 
result,  or  to  get  permission  to  visit  her  husband  in  the  prison. 
Now,  however,  the  desired  leave  was  granted  to  her,  and  with 
a  sense  of  relief  most  grateful  to  her  feelings,  she  went  with 
Helen  and  one  gentleman,  who  was  instructed  to  see  that  she 


386  A   STORY   OF   THE   GREAT   REBELLION. 

was  admitted  to  the  prison.  Helen  was  not  to  be  permitted 
to  enter,  but  remain  outside  while  Astrea  sought  the  interview. 

"I  can  at  least  convince  him  that  I  did  not  betray  him  will- 
ingly," Avhispered  the  poor  wife  as  she  left  her  at  the  carriage 
door.  "It  would  be  terrible  to  let  him  die  believino;  that  it 
was  I  who  caused  his  apprehension  through  personal  motives." 

The  gentleman  who  accompanied  her,  saw  her  to  the  door, 
then,  as  she  passed .  inside,  softly  drew  it  together  after  her. 
Frederic  was  sitting  upon  the  bed,  looking  most  wretchedly 
pale  and  haggard ;  but  the  moment  he  saw  her,  he  gave  one 
bound  from  the  couch  and  caught  her  by  the  arms,  holding 
her  as  in  a  vice,  while  he  hissed  through  his  set  teeth : 

"  Demon !  devil  in  woman's  form !  How  dare  you  put  your- 
self into  my  power  after  betraying  me  into  the  hands  of  these 
infernal  Yankees?     I  shall  murder  you  in  spite  of  myself!  " 

Pier  dark  eye  met  his  unflinchingly,  and  her  voice  was  low, 
almost  tender  in  Its  mournfulness  as  she  answered : 

"  Frederic,  as  I  hope  for  God's  mercy,  I  did  not  betray  you. 
What  I  charged  you  with  was  mere  suspicion,  and  I  would 
not  have  used  proofs  against  t/ok,  if  I  had  possessed  them, 
even  to  save  myself  fi*om  your  unjust  cruelty.  When  you 
left  me  that  night,  the  friend  with  Avhom  I  lived  came  home 
from  visiting  a  sick  child,  and  in  my  extremity  of  woe,  I  told 
her  what  had  occurred.  I  only  wanted  to  keep  you  from 
taking  any  rash  steps  that  might  give  publicity  to  my  painful 
position,  and  what  you  had  said  of  yourself,  made  me  suspect 
that  I  might  gain  some  restraining  power  by  sending  here  to 
ascertain  if  you  had  told  me  the  truth.  She  came  only  to  see 
if  you  had  been  especially  pardoned,  as  you  claimed  to  have 
been,  and  in  her  eagerness  to  serve  me,  was  tempted,  when 
she  learned  your  deception,  to  tell  the  President  everything. 
She  had  known  me  long,  and  we  have  suffered — borne  hard- 
ships, dangers,  everything  together !  She  wished  to  save  me 
from  your  cruelty,  and  her  efforts  in  my  behalf  was  the  means 
of  putting  the  detectives  upon  your  track.  From  that  time 
forth  you  were  watched,  and  you,  not  I,  know  how  much  you 


DESPAIR   AND   REMORSE.  387 

have  to  fear!  But  oh,  Frederic,  it  is  not  by  ray  will  or  wish 
you  have  come  to  this!  I  was  willing  to  leave  your  punish- 
ment to  a  wiser  power  than  my  own,  and  it  is  justice,  not  fate, 
that  has  overtaken  you!  Oh,  Frederic,  your  oath,  your  oath 
to  give  me  back  my  child !  Why  did  you  break  it — for  see ! 
now  it  has  come  upon  you!  If  I  could  save  you  even  now,  I 
would,  but  I  cannot ! " 

He  had  relaxed  his  hold  upon  her,  and  sank  back  upon  the 
side  of  the  bed,  white  and  trembling.  The  woman's  truth 
was  incontrovertible,  and  the  grandeur  of  her  nature  over- 
powered him.  There  were  no  forced,  false  tones  of  sublime 
pity,  and  the  tears  that  fell  over  her  anguished  face  were  too 
genuinely  the  signs  of  an  inexpressible  grief  for  his  scoffing. 
Anger  and  defiance  faded  into  despair,  for  he  thought  his  fate 
sealed,  and  that  she  had  come  to  bid  him  a  last  good-bye. 
Crushed  by  the  magnitude  of  the  fearful  dangers  he  had 
brought  upon  his  own  head,  and  seeming  to  see  himself  upon 
the  borders  of  death,  all  her  great  goodness,  forbearance  and 
suffering — all  his  own  wrong,  cruelty  and  deceit,  came  up  be- 
fore him  overwhelmingly,  and  his  heart  was  filled  for  the  first 
time  with  a  sense  of  remorse. 

"  Eugenia,"  he  faltered  after  a  long  pause, "  you  have  much  to 
forgive.    Are  you  sure  it  is  not  more  than  you  are  able  to  do? " 

"More  than  I  am  able  to  do  to  forgive  you?  Oh,  no!  I 
can  freely  pardon  all  you  have  done  to  me.  Perhaps  if  I  had 
not  suffered  so  much,  I  could  not  do  it  so  easily,  but  suffering 
teaches  us  to  appreciate  the  great  sacrifice  of  the  Son  of  God 
for  our  sakes ;  and  he  taught  us  to  pray  '  forgive  us  our  tres- 
passes, as  we  forgive  those  who  trespass  against  us.''  If  we 
could  more  fully  comprehend  what  we  ask  for  when  we  utter 
that  prayer,  we  might  be  more  generous  in  forgiving  the 
wrongs  committed  against  us.  Oh,  if  God  should  measure 
out  his  mercy  to  us  oyihj  thus  far!" 

"There  would  be  no  hope  for  me,"  he  answered,  dropping 
his  head  heavily.  "  Eugenia,  have  they  sentenced  me — am  I 
to  die  soon  ?  " 


388  A   STORY   OF   THE   GREAT   REBELLION. 

« 

"I  do  not  know — no  one  will  tell  me,  and  I  fear  the  worst. 
Show  some  signs  of  repentance,  Frederic — speak  some  kind, 
regretful  words,  or  this  will  kill  me !  Oh,  to  die  as  you  have 
lived  would  be  too  terrible !  " 

"What  shall  I  say?     I  can  ask  you  to  forgive  me,  if — " 

"  Oh,  no !  not  that !  You  have  my  forgiveness !  Ask  God 
now,  and  may  he  forgive  you  as  freely  as  I  do!  I  have  for- 
gotten all  wrong  to  me  in  the  terror  of  your  pimishment." 

"  I  have  lived  a  sinner,  and  will  not  die  a  hypocrite  at  least, 
Eugenia.  I  cannot  fall  down  upon  my  knees,  and  own  all  my 
sins  repentantly,  for  I  am  more  angry  at  being  detected  than 
sorry  for  my  sins.  I  went  to  Richmond  on  purpose  to  get  per^ 
mission  to  come  North  on  secret  service,  and  this  was  my  ob- 
ject, for  I  had  seen  Grey  who  told  me  of  the  movement  on  foot, 
and  we  hoped  to  have  an  active  hand  in  Old  Abe's  death,  which 
we  have  helped  to  plot — " 

"Frederic!  Frederic!  Oh,  for  the  love  of  heaven  cease! 
You  are  condemning  yourself  by  this  confession,  and  if  any 
one  has  heard  you,  no  power  upon  earth  can  save  you.  Oh, 
what  are  you  thinking  of! " 

She  sprang  to  his  side  and  laid  her  hand  over  his  lips,  and 
now  stood  holding  to  the  bedstead,  white  and  quivering,  as 
the  keeper  pushed  open  the  door  and  called  out : 

"Time's  up!     Must  come  out." 

Astrea  reeled  forward  with  a  moan,  but  rallied  and  asked 
desperately : 

"Have  you  been  there  all  the  time?     Have  you  heard — " 

"  Everything,"  answered  the  gentleman  who  had  accompa- 
nied her,  stepping  forward.  She  struggled  as  if  for  strength 
to  stand,  then  threw  up  her  hands  with  a  cry  that  rang 
through  the  room! 

"Oh,  my  God,  lost!  lost!  lost!" 

Before  any  one  could  catch  her,  she  had  fallen  heavily  to 
the  floor,  and  the  prisoner  with  a  cry  as  bitter  as  her  own, 
would  have  snatched  her  up  in  his  arms,  but  the  keeper  put 
him  aside,  while  the  gentleman  lifted  and  bore  her  out.     With 


THE   EXT)    OF   THE   TRANSGRESSOR.  889 

one  long,  bitter  groan  of  despair,  Frederic  Passivcr  sank  down 
upon  the  bed  as  the  door  closed  upon  them,  leaving  him  once 
more  alone  with  his  maddening  thoughts. 

Astrea  recovered  to  find  herself  in  Helen's  arms,  fast  driv- 
ing to  the  hotel ;  but  the  bitterness  of  death  was  upon  her. 

°  An  inexorable  fl\te  seems  to  have  decreed  that  I  shall 
place  the  halter  about  his  neck,"  she  groaned  hopelessly. 
"Now  they  will  make  me  testify  to  his  confession  of  complic- 
ity in  the  murderous  plot." 

All  night  she  lay  wakeful  and  moaning  in  her  anguish,  fear- 
ing and  dreading  that  last  act  in  the  terrible  tragedy  she  was 
called  upon  to  render,  but  when  morning  came  a  message  was 
brouoht  to  the  effect  that  Frederic  Passivcr  had  anticipated 
the  ends  of  justice  and  committed  suicide.  Then  all  struggling 
ceased,  and  she  passively  submitted  herself  to  the  hands  of 
her  friend,  who,  as  soon  as  possible,  started  back  to  New 
York,  after  ascertaining  the  whereabouts  of  Colonel  Wilfer 
and  telegraphing  him  to  return  home  immediately. 

That  Doctor  Grey  met  his  deserts  we  know,  but  just  in 
wrhat  manner  is  not  here  to  be  recorded.  Certain  it  is  that  he 
never  appeared  again  after  he  had  once  gone  within  the  grim 
-wralls  of  the  Old  Capitol  Prison— consequently  passes  from 
our  sight  forever. 


Once  more  Astrea's  weary  feet  pressed  the  threshold  of 
her  quiet  refuge,  with  Helen  at  her  side,  daring  only  to  ex- 
press her  sympathy  in  silent  and  faithful  services.  It  is  said 
with  too  much  of  truth,  that  misfortunes  never  come  singly, 
and  it  had  not  been  proved  exceptional  in  the  case  of  our  hero- 
ine, on  whom  the  vials  of  wrath  seemed  to  have  been  poured 
out  pitilessly.  Amongst  Frederic  Passiver's  effects,  which 
had  been  given  to  her,  were  found  letters  from  England  in- 
forming him  of  Mr.  Harmon's  death  more  than  a  year  previ- 
ous, and  the  mystery  of  his  long  and  torturmg  silence  was 
explained.     Now  she  knew  why  the  letters  she  had  been  con- 


390  A    STORY   OF   THE   GREAT   REBELLION. 

strained  to  write  after  her  arrival  in  New  York  had  never 
been  answered,  and  the  secret  fear  that  he,  too,  had  cast  her 
off,  Avas  sunk  in  the  deeper  woe  of  her  loss. 

It  is  no  wonder  if  she  seemed  utterly  crushed  under  all 
these  sorrows  combined.  Strength  to  battle  with  grief  was 
gone,  and  she  lay  passive  and  helpless  while  Helen  fluttered 
around  her  sofa  grievingly,  hoping  and  praying  that  Harry 
AVilfer  would  soon  come  to  rouse  her  from  that  dreadful 
apathy  into  which  she  had  fallen.  She  had  only  a  Kttle  while 
to  wait.  Two  days  after  their  arrival  he  came  worn  and  hag- 
gard with  grief  and  alarm.  Astrea  turned  her  face  from  his 
caress  to  bury  it  in  the  piUows  with  a  moan  of  anguish,  and 
Helen  was  forced  to  teU  him  the  story  of  aU  that  had  befallen 
them.  He  listened  until  she  had  finished  with  pale,  rigid 
features. 

"And  aU  this  has  been  willfully  kept  from  me! "  he  cried  at 
the  close.  "Helen!  Astrea!  Oh,  was  it  kind!"  and  he 
stooped  to  gather  her  head  to  his  bosom  with  pitying  tender- 
ness in  spite  of  the  reproach. 

"You  forget  that  we  did  not  know  where  you  were,"  Helen 
hastily  added,  but  Astrea  gently  lifted  herself  from  his  em- 
brace to  say  calmly: 

"I  would  not  summons  you  here  to  be  murdered,  and  I 
could  not  let  you  come  while  he  was  here.  Do  you  not  yet 
know  me,  Harry  ?     But  you  are  here  now — and  safe ! " 

In  a  moment  she  lifted  her  pale  wistful  face  with  a  glance 
that  touched  him  almost  to  tears. 

"  What  is  it  ?  Ask  anything  of  me  that  I  can  do,  and  it 
shall  be  done!" 

"I  may  seem  impatient — unreasonable,  but  you  will  pity 
me,  Harry !  I  want  my  child !  I  am  dying  for  her  presence ! 
Oh,  if  you  value  my  life,  do  not  keep  me  waiting !  I  have 
suffered  so  much! — so  much! " 

"  Only  a  little  while  longer,  dearest  one !  I  must  get  my 
'  leave '  extended  for  the  trip,  and  then  after  one  thing  is  done, 
we  will  go  together  and  seek  for  your  little  one." 


THRICE   MARRIED.  391 

'•  \Vhat  do  you  mean?" 

'•  Can  you  not  guess?"  he  softly  answered  touching  the  ring 
upon  lier  finger.  "This  must  be  replaced,"  and  he  drew  it 
off.     "When  may  I  put  it  back  again,  Astrea?" 

""Whenever  you  please.     I  am  too  weary  to  think." 

"I  will  think  for  you,  then.  This  evening  I  will  bring  a 
minister  here — to-night  telegraph  to  Washington  to  get  ray 
leave  of  absence  extended,  and  if  you  are  equal  to  the  journey, 
we  will  start  to-morrow.  Oh,  Astrea,  my  dear  wife,  shall  I 
ever  see  smiles  again  upon  these  pale  lips,  whose  weary  white- 
ness breaks  my  heart ! " 

"  Only  give  me  my  Lily,  and  with  her  and  you,  1  can  be 
happy.  Happiness  bi'ings  smiles  naturally.  I  cannot  but  suf- 
fer for  awhile,  but  it  will  pass  sometime — soon,  I  hope,  for 
your  sake." 

"And  for  your  own,"  he  answered  fervently.  ''  Yours  has 
been  a  sad  and  wretched  life." 

"  But  it  has  passed  now,"  said  Helen,  whose  presence  they 
had  forgotten.  "I  suppose  God  has  some  purpose  in  making 
his  children  suffer  so  much,  and  after  the  darkness  he  will 
show  the  light.     I  am  sure  I  hope  so  " 

Astrea  put  out  her  hand  and  drew  her  friend  toward  her 
lovingly. 

"Faithful  one,  you  have  done  well  your  part,  and  I  can 
only  love  you  for  it.  Never  think  that  I  cherish  one  hard 
thought  of  my  best  little  friend." 

Helen's  face  was  instantly  hidden  upon  her  shoulder  while 
fflad  tears  coursed  down  her  cheek. 

"Oh,  thank  you  for  those  words.  They  are  very,  very 
sweet  to  me ! " 

That  same  evening  a  quiet  ceremony  was  performed  in  the 
little  parlor,  the  pale,  feeble  bride  supported  by  the  strong, 
shelterino;  arm  of  the  husband.  Neither  she  or  Helen  had 
known  until  he  removed  his  overcoat  that  a  star  had  taken 
the  place  of  the  eagles  on  his  shoulder-straps,  but  now  they 
shone  brightly  in  the  light  of  the  chandelier  as  he  stood  up 


S92       A  STOEY  OF  THE  GEEAT  REBELLION. 

to  repeat  again  those  words  so  lately  uttered  without  i 
thought  of  what  was  to  follow. 

The  day  succeeding,  they  set  out  for  Alabama,  Helen,  ac- 
companying them  as  nurse  to  her  friend,  and  after  a  few  days' 
travel,  found  only  ruins  where  Passiver  Hall  had  stood.  They 
learned  from  some  of  the  citizens  in  Florence  that  the  negroes 
were  all  scattered  abroad,  many  in  the  service,  while  others 
had  gone  from  one  place  to  another — no  one  knew  whither. 
Kufus  had  come  back  once  in  search  of  his  young  mistress, 
but  finding  that  she  was  gone,  had  again  disappeared.  Mrs. 
Passiver  was  in  Mobile,  and  probably  had  taken  her  grand- 
daughter with  her.  There  was  no  other  reasonable  inference 
to  be  drawn,  and  with  this  information,  they  set  out  for  that 
place  impatiently.  Astrea's  excitement  as  she  found  herself 
in  old  familiar  scenes,  was  becoming  a  source  of  alarm,  and 
as  every  delay  could  make  it  only  worse,  General  Wilfer 
hastened  with  all  the  speed  he  could  command,  to  Mobile. 

There,  after  nearly  a  whole  day's  fruitless  inquiry,  they 
found  the  house  where  the  old  lady  had  taken  up  her  abode, 
and  was  approacliing  it  with  breathless  suspense,  Avhen  a 
colored  girl  ran  down  a  long  flight  of  wooden  steps  Avith  a 
fairy-like  little  girl  in  her  arms.  Astrea  gave  one  wild  cry 
of  delight. 

"Nettie!  oh,  Nettie!" 

The  e:irl  turned  and  looked  at  her  for  a  moment  as  she  came 
toward  her  with  both  arms  outstretched,  then  with  a  scream 
that  rang  sharply  on  their  ears,  darted  forward  and  placed  the 
frightened  child  in  her  mother's  arms,  falling  at  her  knees  and 
clasping  them  round  with  frantic  joy  as  she  sobbed  out : 

" O,  bless  the  Lord  for  this  day!  I  kep'  her  for  you.  Miss 
'Genia,  tho'  I  thought  you  was  dead,  may-be ;  but  I  know'd 
you'd  come  if  you  wasn't.  Old  missis  said  you'd  never 
come  back  any  more,  and  that  made  me  take  better  care  of 
Miss  Lily,  for  I  thought  if  you  was  an  angel,  it'd  please  yoa 
to  see  me ;  but  if  you  wasn't  you'd  come  to  her.  Anyway 
she  needed  me,  and  she's  the  beautifulest  child  that  ever  was! " 


OXE   LEFT   DESOLATE.  393 

Here  the  poor  breathless  creature  was  forced  to  stop,  as 
]\Irs.  Passiver  coldly  marched  up  to  the  group,  having  been 
attracted  by  Nettie's  scream.  She  found  Astrea  holding  Lily 
in  her  arms,  kissing  her  passionately,  while  both  she  and 
Helen  wept  freely;  General  "Wilfer  stood  near,  making  no 
effort  to  conceal  his  emotion. 

"I  presume  you  are  INIrs.  Frederic  Passiver,  my  son's  wife," 
she  said  stiffly  addressing  Astrea.  Remembering  that  her  son 
was  dead,  and  pitying  the  gray  hairs  of  that  mother,  blanched 
white  with  sorrow  already,  the  young  lady  answered  very 
gently : 

"Yes,  I  was  his  wife — "  then  paused. 

"^Vas?  was?    What  are  you  now?    Where  is  Frederic?" 

"Do  you  know  that  he  went  to  Eichmond?" 

"Yes,  all  about  it — but  now?" 

"He  went  to  Ncav  York,  and  —  and  after  Mr.  Lincoln's 
death—" 

"What!  not  suspected  of  that — not  arrested!" 

"  Yes,  and  would  not  wait  to  stand  his  trial.  He  anticipated 
the  law,  and — and — destroyed  himself!  " 

The  poor  old  mother  looked  bereaved  indeed.  Personal 
wars  had  crushed  much  of  the  fierce  spirit  with  which  she 
had  entered  into  the  rebellion,  and  now  it  was  pitifiil  to  see 
her  bend  to  this  new  blow. 

"He  too!  he  too! — both  gone.  Oh,  my  brave  boys!  my 
twin  boys  whom  I  loved  so  much.  Has  God  sent  this  in 
judgment?  Have  I  been  wrong  and  needed  to  learn  the 
truth  in  this  way  ?  I  suppose  you  have  come  for  Lily  ?  Well, 
God  took  Ferdinand's  daughter,  and  you  will  take  yours,  and 
IshaU  be  left  desolate!" 

The  sorrowful  pathos  of  her  voice  was  irresistibly  touching, 
and  Astrea  gave  one  quick,  prayerful  glance  at  her  husband's 
face.  He  answered  't  with  a  sad  smile,  and  she  laid  her  hand 
gently  upon  Mrs.  Passiver's  arm. 

"Not  if  you  will  go  with  me.  I  have  never  known  much 
of  you,  but  you  are  old,  lonely  and  bereaved  of  everything 


894  A    STORY    OF    THE    GREAT    REBELLION. 

you  love.  If  I  can  in  any  measure  supply  a  part  of  that 
which  you  have  lost,  come  to  me  and  share  my  home." 

";N"o,  you  are  kind,  but  I  cannot,"  she  answered  turning 
away.  "  If  you  will  take  the  child,  send  Nettie  for  her  things 
and  I  will  try  to  live  without  her.     It  will  not  be  for  long." 

Very  sorrowfully  the  little  party  saw  her  move  away,  but 
a  something  in  her  carriage,  a  proud  lifting  of  her  head  that 
spoke  of  will  and  unconquerable  spirit,  made  them  leave  her 
alone,  and  they  now  returned  to  the  hotel  where  they  had  been 
stopping,  Astrea  clasping  her  lost  treasure  in  her  arms.  Be- 
fore leaving  Mobile,  one  more  attempt  was  made  to  persuade 
the  old  lady  to  go  North  with  them,  but  she  firmly  refused, 
and  they  Avere  obliged  to  leave  her  in  her  loneliness.  Nettie, 
proud  and  happy  as  it  was  possible  to  be,  went  with  her  young 
mistress  to  her  northern  home,  never  again  to  return  to  the 
South  where  she  had  known  little  else  than  sufferinsf. 

In  the  city  of  New  York,  on  a  very  pretty  street,  and  very 
handsome  in  its  exterior,  stands  the  home  of  our  heroine. 
Around  her  fireside  gathers  a  very  pleasant  circle  with  each 
closing  day,  of  Avhich  she  is  the  center,  sharing  her  honors 
generously  with  her  long-tried  friend.  If  Astrea  is  not  joyous, 
she  is  cheerful  and  quietly  happy,  while  a  little  golden-haired, 
fairy-like  creature,  darting  everywhere,  makes  the  life  of  the 
house,  and  is  a  great  pet  and  favorite  with  all,  in  her  merry, 
happy  ways. 

Sometimes  a  guest  whose  face  is  familiar  to  our  readers,  sits 
at  General  AYilfer's  board  and  shares  the  pleasures  of  his  fire- 
side— a  man  with  a  long  scar  across  his  forehead,  and  heavy 
English  whiskers  with  which  Miss  Lily  takes  great  liberties. 
It  is  whispered  that  this  gentleman,  who  lost  an  arm  at  Fort 
Fisher,  is  about  to  sail  for  Europe  with  an  American  bride  as 
the  reward  of  his  devotion  to  the  Federal  cause.  But  we  can- 
not vouch  for  the  truth  of  this,  as  Helen  Noble  declares  her- 
self too  devotedly  attached  to  the  memory  of  the  brave,  good 
Major  ever  to  take  a  second  husband,  even  if  she  could  leave 
her  friends. 


•'■^ 


RARF  BOOK 
COLLECTION 


THE  LIBRARY  OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

AT 

CHAPEL  HILL 

Wilmer 
1015 


